My friend Joan’s stories been such a joy to read from day one; with each story I learn more about her as a woman, a parent, a survivor and a friend. She writes with an honesty and humor that I find refreshing. Recently she wrote a sweet story of how one word has epitomized each stage of motherhood for her. She carries on, following her path even when the turns ahead are not yet clear.
Sometimes we all just keep going out of faith that our efforts will pay off in the end. I planted these flowers at the end of last season. The grocery store was giving them away, because it had reached the time of year when no one in their right mind would still plant pansies, even though they can overwinter in this zone; it depends on the year. I took three flats worth and felt very lucky to have shopped there that day. I am a sucker for unwanted plants; I think it is an odd personality trait. I will take any unwanted plant and find it a home, on my property or at school. This soft spot for unwanted things is a compelling reason for me to not volunteer at an animal shelter… it would be disastrous for our household! Also, I should not work at Goodwill. Or the library book sale.
I knelt on the cold ground and tucked in the sad little flowers. They bloomed a bit late last fall, but the snow soon came and frankly they all looked like goners. I silently berated myself for once again spending time on irrational pursuits instead of the dozens of unfinished projects I have around here.
Spring came, and some didn’t make it. But some did. Each time I walk out my front door, these beauties say to me,
They bring me more joy than many of the expensive plants that I just expect will come up each year. They say to me, “Just carry on, and some things will work out, and others won’t, but there will be beauty if you look down at where you are.”
Like Joan, I find that stories bubble up from underground. There are so many stories waiting for the right time to pop out and surprise someone. The ideas are there for the taking; they just need a place to grow for a while before they bloom. They just need me to set aside my logical pursuits and let them be.