Tag: Flower

Old Roots; New Flowers

Old Roots, New Flowers

An old friend wrote an email to me and said this: I think I finally understand why we have gone through a drastic change in friendships in the last few years…He began to share some things he learned from lessons from sages like the Dalai Lama and another spiritual teacher he reads.

I get it… As we grow, we attract different energy to our lives. People change at different times. When our energies don’t match, it’s a wrong fit for both people. It doesn’t serve either person to stay in the relationship. They go away; new people come into our lives. New flowers bloom from old roots–your roots.

It’s never more apparent than when you are revisiting your old life. I am visiting a friend of 18 years, who has walked through so much of my life with me and has been there with all the old friends. He still has contact with most of the old friends who I don’t talk to anymore. We don’t understand the chasm between the friends. My old friend doesn’t want to get in the middle, and I don’t blame him.

But today I came to a place I didn’t realize that was in my heart. I actually miss the old friends. I wouldn’t be mourning them, if I didn’t miss them. It’s a deep loss for me, like a death. Maybe I need to have a funeral for all the friends who have passed in my life and have moved on. It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Just Bless them and ask God to carry them to wherever they need to be without me for however long that needs to be… or forever.

It’s always good for our souls to get real and ask for God’s help. Sundays are a time that just happens naturally. I need to get it all off my chest before I go to Dollywood and ride that new roller coaster and scream my lungs out. I’m ready, Jesus!

Maybe I’ll burn a picture of some long, lost friends and throw the ashes from the coaster…

 

Please follow and like us:
0

Black Thumb

Black Thumb

When I was a little tike, my father would force me to garden. I hated it, basically because it kept me from doing all the things little kids like to do—play the piano, hide in my closet and create colorful art on my Litebrite, collect wildflowers, and sing on the berm of the interstate at the top of my lungs so no one would hear me.

As I grew up, every flower, every plant, every garden I ever tried to grow died unsuccessfully. I considered myself a black thumb.

My father passed on about 11 years ago of pancreatic cancer. Before he died, he said to me, “So now it’s your turn to take care of your sisters and your mother.” I felt like he was passing down some sort of mantel. It felt heavy and I didn’t want it. I was the one who travelled anywhere anytime, never had a steady job, loved being completely free of responsibility. He had it wrong. This was not going to be my destiny.

But there is something about a Father’s last wish—it tends to stick in your crawl! Suddenly, everyone was coming to me with her problems and needs. And I, for some reason, had gleaned the know-how to help all of them. I actually enjoyed it. Let’s call it… co-dependency kicking in.

Something else happened during all of this. I spent 7 years with a florist and through osmosis, I guess, I learned the what and what-nots to do with flowers and gardens.

So, when I moved into my own house, I suddenly possessed my father’s green thumb. Everything I touched grew. I even stunned myself. Right now I’m looking at two orchids that are blooming so beautifully on my sideboard.  Everyone knows how hard it is to get an orchid to bloom, and yet, alas, they bloomed with no effort at all.

If you haven’t looked at my pictures on here, they are full of amazing flowers from my five gardens. I spend, sometimes, hours gardening each day. My sisters call me. I tell them I am out in the garden. They are generally stunned. They think that my dad, whom I never got along with when he was alive, is back haunting my body. I think they might be right.

Why am I so interested in flowers and pretty things now?

My first garden was herbs. I was a vegetarian chef. I thought, grow herbs! You can, at least, put your mind to doing that. I actually was successful at doing that. That’s how it all started. Then my mother moved in and encouraged me to add some color to a somewhat bland garden. From there, it was my dear friend Brenda Batey who gave me her 100 varieties of day lilies and my neighbor Karen who kept putting flowers starters on my doorstep every morning that made my gardens the way they are today. So, it was a little encouragement from the universe and friends; but, alas, I am now what most call a Green Thumb.

I embrace it fully. Ask me any question about flowers and I’ll be glad to tell you. The only thing black in this yard is the mulch!

 

Please follow and like us:
0
Loading...
X

Enjoy this blog? Please spread the word :)