This is an encore from almost exactly a year ago. I had a close call, followed by a night in the Neurology Intermediate Care Unit (the next best thing to the ICU), and then a slow, steady recovery. A full year later, I can dig in the dirt successfully. Reviewing this post reminds me to take nothing for granted.
Planting a garden means believing in a future.
Didn’t I post a quote like that in the recent past? I’ll search the archives. When I ran a quick search for “garden future quotes” I found everything but this one, so I’m unable to source it quite yet.
Meanwhile, back at the O.K. Chorale, I am sitting still and resting, stretching my legs as much as I can tolerate, and keeping calm. Mostly.
The big bunny still takes her responsibilities seriously in the role of service animal. I took a half day at work, stayed home for the morning, and even though I’d gotten up to feed her at the normal time, she came in a little later and made sure I was up. First she thumped, loudly, and then she scrabbled and scratched the blankets hanging down from the bed. I gave in and got up, and then she sat watching closely while I checked my blood pressure — so closely that I almost expected her to stick a paw in the cuff and check her own.
I’m discouraged from anything resembling physical effort. Bending, lifting, twisting, and straining are all on the “no-no” lists. That means digging in the dirt, spreading topsoil, carrying pots of seedlings out to the deck, or wrestling with a rain barrel are all outlawed. For now, that makes sense. I am stiff and sore, and I tire easily. I don’t know how long the remnants of last week’s hematoma (look it up, and trust me, it hurt) will get in my way.
On the bright side (there’s a little resilient thinking) Mother Nature has delivered rain for most of this week. The weather hasn’t encouraged garden work, so I miss it a little less. But as soon as the sun peeks out from behind the clouds, I’m going to want to garden.
Gardening has always been an ingredient in my healing, a strong part of any recovery. Taking the time to start seeds indoors kept me looking forward after my hysterectomy. Now it’s almost May, and by the end of the month I hope to have my plants in the dirt.
That’s where the faith in the future really comes in. When it’s time to plant, and I’m looking around and envisioning the harvest, my belief in the future is at its strongest.
