Earlier this week (yes, while scouting out everyone’s curbside trash), I noticed a woman tending her garden. I called out to her that her garden was lovely, and we struck up a conversation. I told her that we’re contemplating planting a garden at our house (don’t worry, Tim is the project manager for watering, constructing the beds, watering, figuring out what plants stand a chance of surviving the center-of-the-sun-temperatures-we-experienced-this-summer-why-do-we-live-here, watering, weeding, watering, etc.), and she had all kinds of helpful guidance on what to plant and where, and where to go for advice.
She mentioned how hardy (hearty? Which is it?! It could be both!!) the Pride of Barbados plants are, and I told her about the sweet old man in our neighborhood who gave me some seeds.
What are these fun little guys? These weren’t in her yard, but I’d love a patch of them in ours – the leaves close up when you touch them. I devoted a decent amount of my childhood to making these leaves close up. Glad to have contributed to this world in a meaningful way.
I thanked her for sharing her beautiful plants with passers-by, having them in the front yard instead of the back. She said the trees in her backyard only allowed for shade perennials, and that there were plenty of options at Lowe’s for plants to grow in shadier areas, too. She talked about creating space for trial and error in life to find the right match of plants (uh, trial and error? Helpful on lots of levels for this recovering perfectionist).
Talk of gardening was woven into our conversation that covered all the things: healthy food, faith, family, money, life, death (her ex-husband passed away last month and she’s getting her home ready for his celebration of life in 2 weeks – his ashes will be lovingly sprinkled underneath the oak trees in her front yard). She said something like, “We should visit again some time!” and my heart almost burst with excitement – YES OF COURSE!
What a blessing this little connection was, coming on the heels of a sad tailspin of feeling-sorry-for-myself-I-am-lonely-and-am-so-tired-of-being-the-only-one-ever-in-the-history-of-the-world-to-initiate-spending-time-with-my-friends-woe-to-me-business-is-bad-no-one-wants-to-hang-out-with-me-I-am-a-loser diatribe.
Before we knew it, we’d been talking for more than twenty minutes – A let us know that it was entirely past her naptime and she was DONE with the stroller, so we parted ways. I promised to give her a call the week following her ex-husband’s service. How nice to meet such a sweet spirit just around the corner.