Spring promise

Pink Ribbon 4

Blue foliage on Festuca glauca and Dianthus allwoodii. Small pink marguerite daisy,

a Pelargonium, Valerian and lavender. For planting plan see 27th June

I was cared for by three very special doctors. A GP who told my sister – Diana is strong, she’ll be fine. A surgeon who answered a thousand what, why, how questions, and left me with a body I can live in, and a scar I can see and touch. And a specialist who said – nice scar! – high praise from someone who spends her day looking at mastectomy scars.

Tillandsia, air plant. Did you know they would flower?

My body is complete, because it ends here. I regret I have lost the source of that quotation, through ten years that have blurred the sharp edges of memory.

As anonymous said

Dust we are

And to dust we shall return

And in between, we plant a garden.

Two wonderful memories. I would wake each morning and tell my body to stretch, from the tips of my fingers all the way down to my toes. (Starting from the Ungardener laughing at me as I struggled to hang the washing, one arm would go up, but I needed both!). So, I remember the morning I woke up, told my body to stretch, and, TA DA, it DID! And the second was being carried through the waiting time between two operations, in a state of grace. My Swiss friend lit a candle for me in a church in Austria, and so my mother and sisters lit a candle for me in Cape Town. Two prayer candles for a state of grace. A robot on autopilot, the body did what they told it to. And the mind retreated from the horror of the biopsy. Then waking up after surgery, with body and mind hand in hand again.

L'Aimant, New Zealand

Pearl of Bedfordview, Silver cloud with yarrow

Lord, Grant me the strength and courage

To give support and encouragement in my turn

In the beginning my mind kept churning around, then, one day, I realised I had moved on. That, is history, or rather her story. Now, life is a garden! A Blotanical garden blog! I love words, and the garden is beloved.