The photo is awful so you'll just have to believe me that there is a small painted fern in this photo. My friend Susan gave it to me back in late May or early June when I was first diagnosed with leukemia. It's name is "resilience," and she thought it would be symbolic of my journey ahead (well, at least, I think that was her point, close enough, as she always says). I wasn't sure whether to plant it in the garden at the Asheville house, which is my first love, or at the Hillsborough house. I poured myself into that Asheville hillside 6 years ago with truckload after truckload of mulch and plants to replace an ugly, grass covered slope behind the house. I pulled out bamboo that ran along the steps on both sides (see it was alot of work), and put in the mishmash of perennials, shrubs, and rhododendrons that now dot the hillside on both sides.
The garden here at the Hillsborough house is much smaller, just a few plants and trees that run along the wooden fence in the backyard and Holly's flowers in the front of the house. I knew that we might not get to Asheville much once I started treatment, but I decided to plant the painted fern at the Asheville house where I could see it from the patio. Holly and I often sit on the patio near the garden to eat our lunch or enjoy a beer before supper when we are there. I thought it would be nice to look over and see the fern that Susan gave me and share all that resilience energy.
However, Asheville suffered an extreme drought this summer and the fern died. My "resilience" died. I didn't want to mention it to anyone. I didn't point it out to Susan or Holly, and I barely let myself think about how my symbolic fern was no more. It made me sad, even worried a little in a superstitious way. But recently, Asheville got rain. And my little fern is growing again. It is resilient, by golly. Whew, I was so relieved. I did mention it to Susan, Donna, and Holly this weekend when I saw the fern pushing its little self back up from the ground. And that's me, pushing myself back up from treatment, resilient like the painted fern.
To clarify, since I obviously confused some of you about my next hospitalization for chemo; it's next week. I see Dr. Long on Monday in his office then go into the hospital Tuesday morning (10/7) to take another 5 days of chemo. This week is my rest, rebound, and resilience week as my bone marrow turns back on after the last treatment. Sorry to confuse.
2 comments:
That was beautiful. you know, you could always ask someone who lives in asheville to go by and water it every now and then! : ) Although, I personally have been the cause of death for 8 beautiful ferns in my own garden(of what variety, I am not sure---perhaps...Fragility?)
sh
Tree and Holly,
Sara and I are back from our month in China and ready to catch up with you again. I see you're about to start another round of chemo, not so fun, but I hope it is going okay. We'll be in Seattle this weekend so I'll try to give you a call in Hillsborough. We had an awesome time in Beijing, Pingyao, Xi'an, Hangzhou, Suzhou and Shanghai, but it's also good to be home with Volley and Theo. Of course Volley never let our housesitter touch her, not once in 4 weeks. Why she has to be so stand-offish, I don't know, but she is sure happy to be with us. Theo is always happy, with us or anyone else. Love, Rebecca
Post a Comment