On grief, gardening, and what it means to come alive.
If Mother's Day is hard, and there are a million reasons why it could be, you aren't alone and grief isn't something you have to hide. Every part of you is welcome here.
I spent the last few evenings pulling the dead things out of my garden. The dried bones of plants that once bloomed vibrant shades of viridian, emerald, and terra verte, now reduced to their skeletal remains. I’ve been breaking twigs and branches into mulch to nourish the earth and make way for what I will plant once the rains finally come again.
