And so it seems I've continued a tradition from the last 7 Mother's Day weekends, I worked on my landscaping, but of course there have been 3 separate houses in that time! Years ago on this blog I talked about the theraputic effect of gardening and planting and (hopefully) bringing something to life. I've always done all of my own landscaping, I really loved the way it looked after it grew in, the way it changed, the way I designed the beds by height and by flower timing so there was always green and flowers bloomed from March to October.
And so I landscape/garden.
I think of the past. I think of the present and I wonder what the future will bring.
I think of how much I hope I'm living here for several years, so I can watch the landscaping evolve, to see the fruits of my labor come to life, even if it's only with plants. Cause I'll tell you what, there are some days where that's what I have to grasp onto and I'm thankful for it.
Yesterday I planted, today I'll be planting. And I'll be thinking. And I'll be sad and longing for a little girl with dark thick hair the day she was born, so tiny, so peaceful and so far away from where she should have been and yet in my arms at the same time. And I'll be thinking of Magpie, wondering what the future might bring both of us, both travelling so far from where we'd been in order to come together, she literally and me figuratively. There's much more on both of those thoughts, but today this is as deep as I can go. I would like just one Mother's Day since 2004 to be without tears.
So on this Mother's Day, I honor all the women who want children but don't have them, no matter the circumstance. I know your longing of the heart.
2 comments:
Hugs. No words...just hugs.
I remember when I bought my home people thought I was crazy. The house was "too big" for a single girl, but there was a voice that whispered in my ear "if you buy it, they will come" and I knew as corny as it sounded, "they" were my children.
When I think of my home I think of my children (both real & imagined). I think of the pieces of them that I have spread along the corners of my property, the trees I christened with tears and whispered hope. I remember the Japanese maple that I named after my son and placed close to my front door. As my hopes to complete his adoption waned, the branches drooped and the leaves dropped. The day my faith was most tested I discovered the tree had come to life.
There is a healing in seeing life sprout around you and that is why spring will always be my favorite.
Peace to you.
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