The first steps in my Life Reimagined - When AARP approached me to do a trial of their Life Reimagined program, I saw it as an excellent opportunity to hear some fresh voices other than the ones ...
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Even a Purple Funk has a Silver Lining
I've had a purple-laced-funk cloud hanging over me for several days now. Back in the days when my kids were little I'd describe their down-in-the-dumps-days as "grumpled" . Well. grumpled or funked - I'm there.
Maybe it's the broken promise of expectations
Maybe it's missing the Ethiopia crew
Maybe early summer allergies
Maybe the drain of house-guests
Maybe it's the several household mechanical systems that have conspired to break in the same week
Maybe it's the politics of this State I live in pandering to the base demands of a bigoted few
Maybe it's the hatred directed at immigrants that has me considering leaving a place I love
Maybe it's as simple as getting the wrong movie from Netflix
Maybe it's sorting through my kids baby photos and confronting memories of a marriage failed
Maybe it's an eight mile hike causing knees to twinge
Maybe it's finally being honest with myself, recognizing there is more loneliness in an "iffy" relationship than alone
Whatever the reason, I know I have to snap out of it, burst the cloud of doom that's following me like a wet dog on a Saturday. No offense to the dog who smells like goose poo - he loves rolling in it! and is licking his paws - an annual early summer occurrence that no number of vet visits have been able to figure out.
I began this day looking for that silver lining. My garden offered the first hope. Roses and deep-purple velvet-petaled iris dominate. The roses were lovingly transplanted from my old house to this new garden. As I snipped rich red Abe Lincoln, pale coral Nancy Reagan and delicate pink Princess Elizabeth in the cool of very early morning I relaxed into the memories of choosing these particular varieties with my late husband. I chuckled at the memory of him falling backwards into a rose tree and snapping it. My remedy was to fill the gap with neosporin and wrap the trunk tightly with bandage - to this day , seven years later, that rose tree has a funny bump at the site of the wound but continues to offer glorious blowsy white roses twice a year.
The iris are double re-gifts. Jill gave me some corms. When I divided them I gave some to Sylvia, a gardening friend. She in return brought me corms last year for my new garden. When I divide the iris, I'll pass some on to another friend.
Iris and roses fill a beautiful contemporary Waterford crystal vase bought in Dublin on one of the last trips David and I made together. We both were uneasy about the price - he insisted we buy it and so today it holds the colors and memories that are fast lifting this bleak mood. My silver lining was here after all. I just needed to open my eyes.