Walking tentatively in the damp green grass I approach my beautiful garden beds I see bright blooms and unwanted weeds bursting through the mulch I want to bend down and extract The pesky things, to make the garden neat and orderly. She said, “If you do that, your life may be changed forever.” |
| Reluctantly, slowly, I retreat to my rocking chair on the patio I feel defeated, frustrated and old in the face of my limitations This is a place that I have invested my soul in, a place uniquely my own. I want to tend, cultivate and fertilize, to primp, putter and prune. But that all requires bending over on unsteady feet and uneven ground. She said, “If you do that, your life may be changed forever.” |
| My dear husband tends the garden for me He has discovered a new hobby and commitment. He likes results But he too is frustrated; not enough time To do all that really needs to be done One more reason for me to work. She said, “If you do that, your life may be changed forever.” |
| I grew up close to the ground, planting Flowers, cutting fragrant bouquets of Peonies, French lilacs, and honeysuckle I picked potatoes in the harvest, hands in the dirt. It’s a feeling that stays with you, that feeling of gritty dirt. She said, “If you do that, your life may be changed forever.” |
| She is right, I know. I can visualize what might happen. A broken bone here or there, a broken hip, God forbid. The latter would be life -changing A walker, a brace, assistance to do anything and everything Confined to a wheelchair at the worst. She said, “If you do that, your life may be changed forever.” |
| This poor back of mine, stressed beyond longevity. Neck, middle and lower, all shorn Of strength, much to my despair. I feel stripped of my youthful energy and grace. Gardening seems such a simple thing, all for a moment. She said, “If you do that, your like may be changed forever.” |
| Now I surrender to the stark reality, tears in my eyes. There are other restrictions I must follow. I’m tied up like a cartoon character, a static, Stationary soul in a rocking chair.Like a bird taking flight, I soar to the skies and clouds, free at last. She said, “If you do that, your life may be changed." |
| Sheila W. Mooney |
| June 2009 |