The Weeds

Yes, the weeds.  What garden does not have weeds?  Trust me.  My garden has plenty of weeds.  I will confess that my garden is my favorite part of my yard but it is also the most difficult place for me to be.  Because I struggle to spend time in my garden, weeds have done their best to invade the planters, the patio, and the ground cover.

The truth is, my son, Brian, saw my vision for the garden and knew how special it was to me.  He brought me plants, flowers, and pots to use to decorate and built a patio of pavers for my chaise lounge.  The memories of Brian are strongest when I am in my garden.  For that reason alone, I do not take time to enjoy it as I once did.  I am overwhelmed by my grief.  And yet, for that same reason, I must take time to be in my garden.

One day after several weeks of not going to the garden, I ventured out to take a look.  Weeds were everywhere!  I had a gardener!  Why wasn’t he raking out the garden? Spraying round up? Weed whacking?  My garden should not have weeds.  I shook my head in dismay then grabbed my gloves and hula hoe and got to work.  It was up to me to tend that part of the yard.  No one else.

You see, my grief is much like those weeds.  I neglect it.  I’ve had support groups, a therapist, great resources, and plenty of friends and family to lean on.  At the end of the day, it is up to me to tend my grief.  To pull the weeds.  I cannot ignore my grief.  When I do, my thoughts muddle and I become weighed down.  The thoughts of loss crowd out all the beauty and the thoughts of loving a son who loved me back.

Yes, spring is right around the corner.  Time to get out there and do some weed whacking.  Don’t forget that God is the Master Gardener.  He alone can make beauty from ashes.  Peace be with you friend.

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