by Lady Cynthia

Created on: May 18, 2009   Last Updated: October 26, 2009

How To Win Back Your Soul

With death comes life and perhaps that's how my love for gardening really began. In the beginning, I think it was more or less habit to have a garden each year. My husband had several disabilities that prevented him from helping me. So it was all up to me to toil in the soil. You know, provide that little extra something for the table that we couldn't afford.

Many was the night that our supper consisted of tomatoes, cucumbers, and green beans. Not that I'm complaining. I love fresh vegetables, but its rough raising a huge garden, raising children, housework, canning, and even gathering enough vegetables to sale.

My life was spent in the garden and running back and forth checking on my husband, during the day while the kids were in school, then supper and the rest of the housework at days end.

My back ached, calluses on my hands, and a world so full of loneliness that at times I felt like jerking everything up by the roots. But no, I couldn't do that. I couldn't scream, I couldn't cry, I had no way to vent my wrath without destroying everything I had worked so hard to create.

Then came, fall and winter, and I often found myself in the middle of death. Dried, withered stalks that once held Mr. Stripey tomatoes, luscious Tommy toes, and yellow tomatoes ached to be destroyed, but I couldn't. They mirrored my emotions perfectly.

My husband's death brought the rage to the surface. So many years, I had sacrificed and it was all for nothing. I was surrounded by death. Not only my husband, but mine, my soul. I picked up a big stick and swung at the dead stalks. Over and over I thrashed, till all the rage that had built inside me disappeared. I cried, I screamed. Why, why? I shouted. I didn't receive an answer, and I really didn't expect one.

But as I said before with death comes life. The next spring I planted a smaller garden. Not only did I plant vegetables, but flowers and trees as well. I put up bird houses and bird feeders; I noticed butterflies and bees for the first time in a very long time.

My daughter graduated a year before my husband died and gave birth to my first grandchild almost a year after his death. My son was a senior in high school, and I took on a third shift job.

I was alive, my gardens were alive, and life is wonderful. Maybe it wasn't because I had to have a garden; it was because I wanted one. It's been nine years since his death and every year I plant a garden. I made friends with a little green snake that made its home in the tomato plants.

The rage has gone and now I am at peace.

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