Tackling my side yard had not been on my to-do list but I found myself digging out shovels, my gardening boots, gloves and our yard trash bin. The hubs awakened and groaned; finding me outside. Between the two of us our yard waste bin was full to the brim in one hour. It had brought me perspective.
Sixteen years ago when the hubs and I bought our first home; we imagined planting our roots. We had just returned to our home state after three years of military moves and we were excited. With each apartment we had resided in, I had always planted something in a container and looked forward to the time when we could settle into a space we could call our very own. To finally plant seeds into the ground versus a container.
“Perspective. noun. the capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance” Def. 2b. Merriam-Webster Online. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 28 Feb. 2015.
Four escrows later I looked upon the weeds and neglected garden. There are no more impending military moves in our future; having finally reached our destination. There are no seeds planted in the garden we always dreamed about. Only weeds. I set to work to clear the canvas. I had gotten too caught up in keeping with the Joneses and in doing things for reasons unworthy; forgetting the things that really mattered. I need to plant seeds once again.
I am experiencing growth in many ways.
Clearing the weeds I discovered the growth from the stems transplanted from my late cousin’s backyard. They were huge elephant leaves; a mini tropical jungle hidden in my side yard. It is literally, a part of my family tree and I hadn’t been able to see them. I touched the glossy elephant ear-like leaves ; the tears of joy silently coursing down my cheeks. It is in gardening that I return to my roots and recall my father stringing rope for string bean vines; my mother clipping her roses and humming happily to herself. These memories had been buried deep and it has been a long time in finding them.
I am finally giving voice to the white elephants sitting in the room. I say the things that are hard; the things people don’t want to hear. For years I have kept my thoughts to myself; trying to keep the peace. I’ve realized this is my cowardice. No longer do I rely on others to affirm me. I am done hiding within the weeds and busywork; losing sight of the forest for the trees.
We’ll build a dream house of love, dear.
Close to the sun in the day,
Near to the moon at night,
We’ll live in a lovely way, dear,
Sharing our love in the pale moonlight.
Forever and a day;
Love will not die,
We’ll keep it that way,
Up among the stars we’ll find
A harmony of life to a lovely tune,
East of the sun and west of the moon, dear,
East of the sun and west of the moon.
~ written by Brooks Bowman. Performed by Diana Krall (1999).
I am finding the music once again.