We lost my dad on May 3rd after a battle with end stage liver disease. He spent several weeks in the hospital at Unity and then at the University of Minnesota Medical ICU. I was able to spend a few hours with him at Unity while he was still awake and alert, before he was transferred to the U and intubated. I will cherish those last few hours with him. He wanted to go fishing “when he got out of here” and get an blue raspberry icee from Holiday gas station.
The last couple weeks have been hard. Grief is a cruel beast, sneaking up when you least expect it and sinking its claws in. The timing is terrible, not that these things can be planned or predicted. It’s full-on planting mode right now in my part of Minnesota, zone 4b. It would be so easy to throw in the towel, give up, try again next year. Part of me wants to. To just crawl into bed and let it all go. But, like my mom, I don’t believe in coincidences. The work in the garden - planting a field of zinnias, snapdragons, dahlias, foxgloves - it’s therapy for me. It allows me to work through my grief, sorrow, and anxiety. So maybe this was all meant to be, and God is giving me the literal landscape to work through what I need to.
Maybe this summer, I’ll take my mom and siblings fishing with icees in hand to honor him.
For all my subscribers, just know that I’m still here, working hard for you and your flowers, and for myself as well.
Love to you all, flower friends.