We have a spot in our backyard that a tree once stood. A storm took it out years ago and nothing really grows there. It is an ugly spot that consists of dirt and a small indention where the tree used to be at some point. We can't even grow grass there.
My morning routine since I went back to work over a year ago was to let the dogs out back and stand with them for a minute. I'm at that spot every single morning. The morning before Catherine died, I was in that spot. There was nothing there. Just a bald spot in our yard.
The morning she died, I hadn't let the dogs out yet. I realized that Catherine wasn't up and went up to get her. Little did I know that she was gone. The rest of the morning is a blur. Getting the boys out of the house, dealing with paramedics that didn't want to tell me she was gone, being questioned by detectives, and having family show up, my morning routine was off. When everyone left, I went out back to check on the dogs and in the spot that was bald and ugly the day before, suddenly had some type of growth. I immediately called Josh out and we looked at this bright green plant and could not figure out where it came from or how it got there. It was about 6-12 inches in height and seemed to have numerous stems with thorns.
That small growth became my new obsession. A dear friend put a tomato cage around it and people told me it was just a weed. I put cinder blocks around it because I didn't want it to get trampled on or mowed over. My husband kept telling people that if it was a weed, it would be the most loved weed in all of Wilson County.
Six weeks later and that weed is no longer a small plant. It has grown faster than anything I have ever seen. The thorns are gone and it has outgrown the tomato cage. I think of it as a simple gift from Catherine. Outgrowing the tomato cage was her telling me that we still can't fence her in! The weather here has been hot and dry and my little unknown plant has thrived. I've done research on it and google image searches and while it resembles quite a few plants, to me it looks like a butterfly bush. Maybe it isn't. Time will tell on this one. I will mulch it for the winter and pray it comes back in the spring. I keep saying that hope springs eternal. It is my Catherine bush and I love it dearly.
The part that makes me laugh through this whole thing is the location. Here is a plant that is growing in the deadest part of our yard, in the exact spot that we had planned to expand our patio at some point and put in a screen porch. The dream was to make the top of the porch a deck and have it accessible from only Catherine's room. Her room was to become my craft room when she went off to college. And now there is this plant growing that I love dearly. My girl knew what she was doing. When she was mouthy or being a moody teenager, I would go up and measure her room and tell her where my fabric was going to go or that I was going to paint it pink when she left. She thought I was nuts, would laugh at me, and then moodiness would be gone. My best guess is that she didn't want me to take over that room or build that screened in porch. Lord knows that we can't move this unknown plant.
As time goes by, and her plant grows, so does my grief. One would think that it would diminish over time but instead it seems to get bigger. As I realize all the stuff I'm going to miss with her loss or how much I just miss her. My grief grows as I think about how much I miss her hugs or the sound of her laugh or her witty attitude and sense of humor. But looking at my mystery plant and seeing that simple gift brings joy. I pray that it blooms this spring. Pink would be ideal. I would imagine her message to be "I always said I hated pink but I liked it a little, so here you go mom." Maybe it won't last the winter. Regardless, that simple gift was the brightest thing in our yard during the darkest days of our world.
My morning routine since I went back to work over a year ago was to let the dogs out back and stand with them for a minute. I'm at that spot every single morning. The morning before Catherine died, I was in that spot. There was nothing there. Just a bald spot in our yard.
The morning she died, I hadn't let the dogs out yet. I realized that Catherine wasn't up and went up to get her. Little did I know that she was gone. The rest of the morning is a blur. Getting the boys out of the house, dealing with paramedics that didn't want to tell me she was gone, being questioned by detectives, and having family show up, my morning routine was off. When everyone left, I went out back to check on the dogs and in the spot that was bald and ugly the day before, suddenly had some type of growth. I immediately called Josh out and we looked at this bright green plant and could not figure out where it came from or how it got there. It was about 6-12 inches in height and seemed to have numerous stems with thorns.
That small growth became my new obsession. A dear friend put a tomato cage around it and people told me it was just a weed. I put cinder blocks around it because I didn't want it to get trampled on or mowed over. My husband kept telling people that if it was a weed, it would be the most loved weed in all of Wilson County.
Six weeks later and that weed is no longer a small plant. It has grown faster than anything I have ever seen. The thorns are gone and it has outgrown the tomato cage. I think of it as a simple gift from Catherine. Outgrowing the tomato cage was her telling me that we still can't fence her in! The weather here has been hot and dry and my little unknown plant has thrived. I've done research on it and google image searches and while it resembles quite a few plants, to me it looks like a butterfly bush. Maybe it isn't. Time will tell on this one. I will mulch it for the winter and pray it comes back in the spring. I keep saying that hope springs eternal. It is my Catherine bush and I love it dearly.
The part that makes me laugh through this whole thing is the location. Here is a plant that is growing in the deadest part of our yard, in the exact spot that we had planned to expand our patio at some point and put in a screen porch. The dream was to make the top of the porch a deck and have it accessible from only Catherine's room. Her room was to become my craft room when she went off to college. And now there is this plant growing that I love dearly. My girl knew what she was doing. When she was mouthy or being a moody teenager, I would go up and measure her room and tell her where my fabric was going to go or that I was going to paint it pink when she left. She thought I was nuts, would laugh at me, and then moodiness would be gone. My best guess is that she didn't want me to take over that room or build that screened in porch. Lord knows that we can't move this unknown plant.
As time goes by, and her plant grows, so does my grief. One would think that it would diminish over time but instead it seems to get bigger. As I realize all the stuff I'm going to miss with her loss or how much I just miss her. My grief grows as I think about how much I miss her hugs or the sound of her laugh or her witty attitude and sense of humor. But looking at my mystery plant and seeing that simple gift brings joy. I pray that it blooms this spring. Pink would be ideal. I would imagine her message to be "I always said I hated pink but I liked it a little, so here you go mom." Maybe it won't last the winter. Regardless, that simple gift was the brightest thing in our yard during the darkest days of our world.
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