Today is Memorial Day, an American holiday to memorialize the troops who fought and died serving our country, the troops that continue to fight to keep our country free.
But it is not them of whom I think. No. My thoughts arise from a knot in my stomach and an anxious flutter in my heart. Grief for my mom’s passing burns through me like a wildfire. I think it just might consume the me that I used to be. I want to feel this sorrow, but I don’t want it to consume my family. So I’ve been keeping myself busy, perusing blogs, exercising?!, yardwork. Now that’s therapeutic.
On Saturday, I even went up to help my dad pull weeds in my mom’s secret garden.
We left the borage, fennel, mint, mugwort, and thyme, clearing just enough to plant some peppers.
My little sister and daughter lounged on the grass and consulted their pendulums as to whether they should work...
It was hard work, but the day was beautiful, and the company was good.
Anouk took this picture on our drive home….
Sunday I worked in my own yard, watering, tending and pulling weeds. Today I planted some canna lily rhizomes. In so doing, I discovered my long-neglected, living advent spiral. And woven into it, I uncovered archaeological remnants from four different fairy homes. They’d been destroyed by the elements and buried in leaves.
I believe they were the second to last of such fairy offerings. This, I believe, was the last.
It was built shortly after one beautiful autumn parkday last year, when a younger friend of my daughter’s said, “Anouk, you are a real girl.” At first my heart swelled with sweetness that her friend saw her genuineness. As her friend continued, I realized it was not a compliment. She proceeded to pronounce another friend the best fairy leprechaun girl ever.
Amazingly, there was no charge around this interchange. Anouk didn’t even seem to notice. I wanted to interject, “You don’t know her like I do!” But I didn’t. I realized that this is how it must be. It wasn’t long after that she lost her last baby tooth and started getting excited about independence. She is leaving the kingdom of childhood.
I just hope that it’s not too much of a mad rush. I hope that she finds pause to commune with the nature spirits…to daydream and breathe…to keep the vestiges of innocence kindled in her spirit.
I wish that for us all. Perhaps if we remembered our original natures, we’d forego war and have a garden party instead.