The Flowerbed

I oblige my mother.  I don gardening gloves and a rake and stride with a purpose out to the flowerbed.. But where to start? My brother had hacked back some of the thorny brambles that had overtaken the sign that proudly announces our name. Clearing the sign for all to see, identifying that we still live here. That our name lives on..

My brother wants to mow over everything, but i know better. I can feel my mother over my shoulder, saying.. No! You have to get the roots out! Do it right! So I do. I drop to my knees and just start pulling out weeds; over grown ivy and sticks and wildflowers that are not welcome. I yank out intrusive vines and brambles and small trees. I enlist the help of my brother for a few of the stubborn ones that I lack the strength to pull out myself.  Then I rake, I rake up all the weeds I pulled, I rake away the tons of leaves that have tangled themselves into the dirt and plants, and sticks that my dog promptly chews on.

I mistakenly pull out a flower my mother planted. It stops me dead in my tracks.. I stare at it for a minute. I can hear my mom, upset at me for pulling out her flowers... Something powerful overwhelms me..  Before I can control myself I am screaming at the flower in my hand.. "Serves you right mom! If you don't want your flowers pulled out get over here and weed yourself! How could you leave me?!?!?  How dare you!! I have never needed you more and you leave! Where are you!" I throw the flower into the pile of weeds and pull out another I hold it up. "Come stop me mom! Tell me to stop pulling out your flowers!" I pull out another one... "Where are you?!? Where the fuck are you!!!"

And then just like that it's gone.. the air is out of me.. the fight is gone.. the feeling is gone.. I'm back to nothing. I get all the flowers that I unearthed and replant them. That will make mom happy...

It takes me two days, my brother and sister-in-law insisting I come in after hours of being out there on day 1. When I am done, the flowerbed is clear down to the dirt.

Now every time I see that flowerbed it's calling to me.. What do I do with it now? It's bleak and barren landscape. It needs tending. It needs love. It needs care... I don't know where to start. I have ripped out almost all that was living in it. Leaving it scarred and empty and without purpose. I did this without a plan, without any direction or idea what I would plant there afterwards... I did this without thought or care... 

The flowerbed reminds me of myself... ripped and scarred to the core.. unable to start again.. without purpose, no plans, no idea, no direction.  Bleak, barren and ugly. Needing things I can't identify or ask for. Needing seeds to be planted so I can come back to life and breathe. Needing a plan, a path.. something.. anything...

Until next time...

One minute, one second, one breath at a time...s