My yard is a hot mess. Multiple years with a broken mower will do that. And I love having flowers around my deck, but they have to be tough to survive my plant-it-and-forget-it approach to gardening. It is definitely survival of the fittest at my house.
Often I beat myself up about my inability to be a consistent plant caretaker, but this summer I decided to take a deep breath and accept it for what it is. And I found a lot of beauty and joy in the process.
In the midst of the chaos of weeds, leggy butterfly bushes and annually returning purple trellis-friendly flower vine hangs a bird feeder. That oasis is a riot of avian activity. Even squirrels and bunnies get in on the fun, and I’m okay with that as long as they don’t climb the feeder (that’s more an issue with the squirrels than the bunnies).
Our grass swings between an untended hayfield and the Sarahan desert. The old deck is caving in. But the flurry at that feeder fills my soul.
This summer I noticed several marvels in the backyard mess. I had not had time to replace the winter pansies with flowers suited for summer. So the pots of dirt sat empty and started to grow weeds. But then a miracle. A small sunflower sprouted in a hanging basket. I’ve never planted sunflowers! Then some yellow flowers from years past suddenly sprouted in window boxes and a random petunia came up in another hanging basket.
A dead indoor plant I’d moved to the deck to throw away suddenly came alive.
Magic definitely comes to my backyard. A couple of years ago I had to move a large pot containing a butterfly bush. A root had grown into the ground and snapped off in the move. That ugly root became a thriving bush that the bees, butterflies and hummingbirds love to visit. My mom always called those “volunteers” – the things that simply came up on their own.
Sometimes all things need is time, and a little space to grow.
Like my connection with my mom and daughter during Mom’s journey with dementia. I could have focused on so much that was wrong, and at times it was hard to see beyond the loss and the hardship. But I learned to see the proverbial “birds at the feeder” and the “flowers” that sprouted among weeds.
There were so many beautiful surprises along the way. Alicia and I learned to enjoy music with Mom. We laughed so much. In fact there were times Mom was in tears for seemingly no reason and something else would happen and she would suddenly start laughing.
The few times she said my name as she descended further. The way Mom always looked at my daughter with love and joy, even when she did not know her name. The times we danced to oldies in the middle of her memory care facility.
I could look at my yard and cry (and sometimes I do) but mostly I choose to appreciate the beauty that sneaks in. And I keep those bird feeders full and tended the best I can.
Just as I learned to focus on the plusses of time with Mom. Those “flowers” are memories I’ll cherish forever.
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