"As a noun, the winter garden appears lifeless, brown, and dry – but as a verb, there is an unseen rhythm to it – an incubation in the earth, a gathering of energy, before springtime rebirth. Perhaps this is a gathering time for you – the pause between heartbeats as you gather yourself to be borne into something new."
A friend shared these beautiful and profound words with me FIVE years ago. I wasn't anywhere close to rebirth at that time, but his words gave me hope. I never expected this sense of rebirth to take so very, very long. I often wonder if it would have happened sooner after my husband died if I'd chosen a different path.
But I'm here, now, six years later. Six years. Six years ago my husband excitedly planted this pear tree that was grafted to an apple tree. He couldn't wait to see what kind of fruit it bore. Six months later he was dead. The tree grew, slowly, but never blossomed or bore fruit. The growing conditions clearly weren't right for it, but I didn't have a clue what it needed. This spring I excitedly watched it blossom...it felt like an omen of better things to come. Then we experienced a late freeze and the blossoms died, and little of my hope died with them. Imagine my surprise today to see that this little tree has borne fruit!
I don't believe in coincidences. Five years ago I began caring for and sharing life with B as he battled cancer. It's been a hard, hard road. I've grown during that time, but it's been a slow process--the growing conditions haven't been ideal. This spring I felt things starting to come together. I was less than a year from graduating from grad school and I felt seeds of hope planted all around me--a sense of excitement, an omen of better things to come. Then B's cancer metastasized to his brain, and three weeks later he died. Much of the hope I felt for my future died with him as I was plunged back into grief, this time grieving the loss of my best friend and companion as well as experiencing renewed grief over the loss of my husband. But the summer has been kind to me, and each day has brought a bit more hope. I realized this morning that I am happy. Really, truly happy--in a way I haven't been in years. Maybe ever. I feel connected to the earth, and to other people, and to Spirit, for one of the first times in my life. If I didn't still have my down times, I would wonder if this is what the "mania" of manic depression feels like! My friend was right...it's been a six year "gathering time," and it's finally time to be borne into something new.
I'm glad this little pear tree and I blossomed together this year, survived the frost, and are bearing fruit.