I love to See Things Grow

Each day, I looked at the fall flowers killed by the first frost.  The de viad flowers made the yard look even worst.  Just pulling them up would be an improvement. The last few days have been my best and was determined to work in the yard.  Yes, I could have asked for help, this was something I wanted to do. 

Saturday, I took a chair, garbage bags, and a knife.  I began pulling up the frost-bitten flowers, I pulled half and went inside to rest.  Two hours later, I came out and finished.  I rested and cut down dried calla lily stalks. The yard look so much better and still barren.  I wanted to see color.

Sunday morning, I was at Lowes, looking for pansies.  The deep blue was calling my name and they were paired with yellow violas.  There are seven beds, the last is all vilolas and two matching pots.

Today was the first day of my second round of healing from chemo.  It was a long day and I was determined to get those two pots finished.  It felt so good looking at them.  My mom was an avid gardner and I never understood.  When asked why she said, “I love seeing this grow.” Now I understand, I love to see things I planted grow.

                                              The Second Round

Christmas day is winding down.  What a day?  It was a day filled with love and generosity.  It began with visiting a friend that doesn’t get out much, an early dinner with family and finishing with solving all the world’s problems with next door neighbors.

Preparations for tomorrow’s chemo have already started.  The lunch bag is packed with oranges and a banana.  The tablet with a book on it is fully charged.  I have ear plugs for music.  All these things will make the four hours easier.  What makes it easiest is a husband that makes sure I’m there on time and a sister that will visit before going back to Atlanta.

I will roll with what ever comes during this second round.  Friends have shared their experience and that is appreciated, I know mine will be unique.  There is enough prayer, enough faith and enough love to guide me through what lies ahead.

                                                           It’s Done

It’s done.  The last of my hair is gone.  My hairstylist sister did the honors.  She’s visiting for the holidays and brought her clippers.  Within 30 minutes the rest of my hair was on the bathroom floor and I was o.k. with it. There were a few surprises; freckles on the top of my head and a beauty spot. Looking in the mirror, I liked what I saw.

This has been a process each step gave me time to adjust to the change. When the first locks came out, I waited a few days to call my niece for the big comb out.  The short cut gave me time to accept what would come next.  More and more hair came out and finally I was ready to let it all go.

Today was a milestone in self-acceptance and confidence.  I am more than my hair, it doesn’t define me.  I am comfortable with the new look.