I don’t remember planting the tulips in the front of this picture. I think they were tulips that I planted when we first moved here. They bloomed the first year and after that they came up as a spindly leaf or two with no flowers. I have read that tulip bulbs should be pulled up when they no longer bloom but I have never had the time nor heart to rip them out of the ground. I mean, they are living things and it’s not their fault they didn’t bloom. I am the doofus who planted them in a climate that they don’t like so why should they pay for my vanity. 😉
I think that the extremely mild winter we had helped to produce the conditions that the tulips needed to bloom again. And today, I am grateful for them. They feed my soul and give me hope.
If you read my last post, you know that yesterday was a rough day for me. I am having a lot of mixed feelings about my garden because of it.
On one hand, my garden, no matter what happens in my life, is my refuge and spiritual center. It is my church. It is my escape. My direct connection to God. It is where I go when things go wrong.
On the other hand, while I know that it is irrational, part of me is blaming a garden for what happened. If my parents had not been in the garden, if I had not been in their garden with my mom for so long… It makes no sense, I know. It was a freak accident. Flowers can’t plot diabolical things.
I am worried that my mother is feeling this too. My love of plants comes directly from her. If she loses faith in her garden, my faith will be compromised as well.
But I am taking solace in the tulips. They came back. They fought and are now blooming again. So it will be with my father and with me as well.