I am a gardener without a garden and have been since spring (2016) when I dug up my flower beds and sold hundreds of plants. I dug up and potted up many plants to create mulched boring beds that would be easy for someone to manage.
Why? Because I have to sell my house and move on. Move on and hope that I can find a new home with lots of space for hundreds of plants and my fur babies. Move on to start my life not only as an empty nester but as a divorcee with 2 dogs, 3 cats, and a love of all things green and beautiful. I have to do this with a not so realistic price tag.
This is not what I had imagined when I turned 50 back in February when I counted down the days for my youngest son to graduate high school and I dreamt of the day I would find my dream home in the country and return to the country life my husband and I had talked about for years. The dream of a horse, donkey, and a cow eating in the pasture. A red barn with a tractor parked inside. A veggie garden and beautiful flower beds filled with all the colors of the rainbow. The perfect setting as I gaze out my window- to be inspired to write that book and fill my life with peace and joy.
I am a gardener without a garden and I have struggled with the sadness. It is a sadness that has consumed me at times. I have not been to a garden center since last fall and I can barely walk through the garden center at my local home stores without feeling a sense of loss and twinge of grief because I cannot buy a plant and enjoy the beauty of the blooms in my garden…because I do not have any flower gardens.
I am a gardener without a garden and I struggle every day to feel in touch with nature. I have even shed tears over my thoughts about just letting go of my houseplants and other tropical garden plants. Letting go and not bringing them in and just letting go of the idea of gardening and nurturing my green thumb. But then I remember that some of them are from my dad’s funeral over 17 years ago and I just cannot let go of the connection.
My gardens were cultivated from red clay dirt that was so barren weeds did not even grow. The yard was shaded from more than 18 Oak Trees on less than a 1/4 acre plot. I had a few Oaks taken out and had the tree guy limb these beautiful 30-50 Oaks up to the canopy allowing the sun to finally hit the ground. For 8 years gardening was my therapy for my unhappiness and burying the denial of a marriage that had been troubled from the very start. The bees, blooms, butterflies, and beauty that exploded in my gardens made me happy.
I am a gardener without a garden. Therapy of dirt under the nails, the smell of a flower, and the buzz of a bee as it lands next to you in the garden. I miss that. I am pouring my heart out because anyone who tends a garden- flower or vegetable- knows the joy that gardening can bring to your soul. The first bloom of the season, watching a butterfly flutter from flower to flower, or the first tomato you pick off the vine…there is nothing so special as those moments in nature.
The Iris, hostas, and many assorted perennials in pots or sitting closely woven together in an area in the dappled shade waiting for their new home…since July my (15 or more varieties of) Iris have been scattered about on top of the ground just waiting to be planted. The ferns, hostas, and even heuchera are just happily crowded back there in the back of my yard hidden from view. I even have some phlox, coneflowers, and hydrangeas mixed in. I have packets of seeds waiting to be sown…
I continue to house hunt and dream about my new home on the edge of a small town with room for a veggie garden, orchard, tons of flower beds, greenhouse, chicken coop, barn, and a workshop. It has been quite exhausting putting aside the past and moving forward stuck in my house which is not a home without my flower gardens. Is this my dream? Am I still a gardener? It is very difficult for me to pass a garden center and not think about what I am…
I am a gardener without a garden.
Thanks for stopping by and reading my story. Check out my other blog The Garden Frog Boutique too.
Creating. Inspiring. Gardening without the rules!
copyrighted 2016 C Renee Cumberworth