I lost my grandmother in June 2022. It's the closest loss I've dealt with thus far. She's still the background on my phone and I wear her jewelry, scarves, and sweaters daily to incorporate her into my life.
My parents are getting older now, too. I'm not sure how I'll be able to handle that except to throw myself into my garden and ponder the Circle of Life. I'll find solace in how energy can neither be created nor destroyed, and I'll ponder how sadness shows us how much we've loved.
After my grandmother passed, I planted Lily of the Nile in my garden. As a kid I remember these beautiful plants growing outside her front door. They remind me of her and all the fun times we had at the beach. I collected seeds from the chili pepper tree in her backyard to plant in my garden as well. I like to think that the ones we love help our plants grow. I think about how my energy flows into the plants as I prune and nurture them. I hope they know how much I love them.
"Nana" was an unstoppable force of nature. Extremely healthy all the way until the last year of her life when she was 90. For some reason, her health and vitality made it seem like she would always be around. Now that she's a part of my garden, I know she will be.
I feel her presence and her absence everyday.
Gardens can serve many functions. They can provide us with food security and connection to the cosmos. But also a place to grieve, channel our energy, soothe our anxiety and remember the ones who came before us.
When I'm in my garden I let my mind wander. I'm transported across oceans and across time. I think of conversations I wish had gone better or I just let myself miss the people who are far away.
I've been touched by grief this year. For Nana, whose presence still lingers in the air and for my family who is still here but not in good health. As the bitter winter draws on and on, the hard times seems harsher and the pit in my stomach feels bottomless. One thing I have to remember is "this too shall pass". Such a simple phrase with boundless applicability. I tell myself the sun will rise in the east each morning and the winter will not be forever. Spring is coming. Exactly on time, exactly as it is meant to be.
All my love,
Cynthia
I just read what you wrote about the passing of your Nana. It brought tears to my eyes as I recalled the loss of my own mother. Thank you for your thoughtful comments.