A rose by any other name....(aka a mind is a terrible thing to waste.)

I had a moment tonight.

I was sitting on the lovely deck of a kindergarten co-worker of mine.  Her incredible husband texted her at lunch and offered to host happies for us.  (Apparently after 13 years of marriage, he knows how the teacher feels on a Friday afternoon. And yeah, now we all want to marry him.)

I glanced around her back yard, searching her gardens for familiar flowers.  You might remember that when I made the move to save my own life I left behind many, many, many gardens that I had lovingly tended for over 15 years.  During the spring and summer months, I would take early morning “garden tours” around my yard with my coffee, enjoying the varied and incredibly beautiful flowers. My friends would stop by for cuttings or plants, and I would share freely and happily.

I can’t do that anymore.

I asked Ms. Awesome if we could walk around the yard, and she happily followed me down the steps.  We walked slowly as I pointed and named all the various plants that were in different stages of growth.  She reminded me about the ones that I had given her when she and her husband had started their gardens. (He works in agriculture, and is a kick-ass gardener. Of COURSE.)   It took me a bit to remember the names, and that rattled me.  I was always the one who knew ALL the names of everything- they rolled off my tongue effortlessly which always shocked me because frankly, I can’t remember much of anything else.

I stood in front of a plant in the corner of her yard, and remembered that this was once my very, very favorite!  (Thank God I remembered SOMETHING.) It had fuzzy, greenish-white leaves, and a tiny magenta flower.  The color was always magnificent, and I always waited anxiously for them to bloom.

I stood there, and I couldn’t remember its name. I tried and tried and tried and it never came to me.  I was floored.

We walked back to the deck and carried on a lively conversation about funny stories from the day with everyone else.  I sat at a table and tried my hardest to remember the name of the plant.  But I couldn’t.   I really, really COULDN’T!

Finally, I had to excuse myself and leave the party.  I couldn’t explain the sadness that washed over me as I realized that I had lost this particular part of me.  I rattled off names of flowers out loud as I drove home, hoping that it would spark something in my brain. 

It wasn’t until I was able to Google it that I discovered its name.  


And tomorrow I plan on making a trip to my lovely neighbor’s home to beg, borrow or steal every single plant that I didn’t even KNOW I was missing until tonight.  After all, she's the one that gave them all to me in the first place. 

I've decided to be her newest and best project ever. 


Anonymous said...

You were married for longer than I was - but I've been to that place of loss.

Glad, relieved (in our case, also safer) to be where we are, but it's bittersweet.

Hoping and praying you get LOADS of flowers, plants, and happiness. (I'm a pretty new reader - do you have a place to garden now?)

Lisa G. in CT (aka Grumpy)

A Speckled Trout said...

Go plant some hope and they'll be more than flowers blooming.

Joanna Jenkins said...

I remember when you moved and how sad you were to leave your garden.

Go get your hands dirty :-)

xo jj

Mrs. E said...

Decorate your own life. I've always believed that you don't wait for others to do that for you. So glad you are starting your gardens again! Bless you, girl!

Anonymous said...

I made my husband forget his PIN number for his debt card just by talking about how I always forget my numbers but remember the pattern. It took him a week to finally remember it! LOL!

I hope you get your gardening mojo back.

Lynn said...

See, it's because you have TONS of information stuffed in your brain. No wonder you (we) can't sift through it quickly to find a word! I'm going to go find me some of those campion flowers! Cheers!

Oh I just came by to see how you are getting on! I think I love Jack and I can't wait to hear about the wedding of Frank's mom. (A third grader of mine once shared to the class that her mom and dad "finally got married this weekend!"

Japolina said...

Dear Vodkamom, I'm not advertising but I did mention you in my blog today. It was kinda funny.


Rachel Cotterill said...

They're so beautiful - you should definitely surround yourself with such pretty things :)

Unknown said...

Whatever it takes... to start a new beginning.

Principled Slut said...

I lost that part of myself too. Last summer I re-did the landscaping around my new house, and it was sort of sad to have to buy almost all of the plants. So I called my sister-in-law before she visited, and asked her to bring along a couple starts of plants from my mom's garden that I had previously. And this weekend, I glowed inside as I saw one of them was blooming prolifically.

It takes time to start over. It takes time to re-grow all of those parts of you that had died down to just a few roots. Nourish each one as you find it, and in time your garden will be overflowing and you'll be sharing again.

And if you ever make it to northern Indiana, I would love to share some plants with you. :)

Anna Whiston-Donaldson said...

campion sounds a lot like champion to me. go get 'em champ!

Julia said...

Beautiful flowers and beautiful you. Enjoy getting your hands dirty again!

Roshni said...

sounds like a wonderful plan!

As Cape Cod Turns said...

campion is like champion like YOU :)