Pruning the Valentine rose~

My Valentine rose was dying.

I don't like to see plants die, and this plant was a Valentine gift that represented a less than healthy relationship. It arrived in bloom, a token of love more than an expression of it.

Its leaves began curling and dropping off, so I gave it more water. It got yellowish and sickly looking. I picked off the dead leaves, and repotted the plant thinking its roots needed to stretch.

Then I spotted tiny webs woven between the leaves. Nearly microscopic specks crawled across the strands like stealthy thieves. They must have been aphids. They'd been sucking the juices from the plant, these unseen killer parasites.

All the water in the world would have been futile; the veins were dry and had no ability to absorb what they needed.

Sort of a metaphor for my marriage.

Something's not right. It's not healthy and happy. It's stopped growing. So I give it what I think it needs, to no avail. Sometimes I don't care; let it die. Put it out of its misery.

Something that neither of us recognizes is sucking its life-blood, leaving the skeleton of what was once a vibrant blooming love.

I live as a parched twig in a rainforest, wondering what others know that I do not. Wondering what is the secret that fifty percent of married couples stumble across. Wondering what are the aphids that attack. I can't see them. They hide in anger.

I gently packed the sickly rose into new soil in a bigger pot. I pruned it back to nearly nothing. Then I washed the remaining leaves with soapy water to remove the aphids. I didn't hold hope for survival.

But today I see that there are tiny leaves beginning to emerge from the stems, tender leaves that promise growth and health. If I'm watchful, if I keep away the aphids, this plant might live, and even flourish.

The thing is, I don't know what the aphids that have attacked my marriage are. I don't know how to wash them away. I don't even know if I want try any more. It will take hard pruning to cut away the dead branches. There will be pain. Will it be worth it?

I'll watch my Valentine rose.

See: Where has the heart gone?

For Alice~ She's home!!!!!!!

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson Sometimes it's all about knowing that loved ones and friends stand behind you, knowing that support is there on the down days, the worry days, the days when you feel off-center, out of sync, bedraggled emotionally, and in pain, but knowing all the while that you're not alone. You're not alone... Alice is an online friend--she lives in Hawaii-- who belongs to the writer's workshop that I do. We've only "met" online, but those who have online friendships know that they can be just as strong as those in-person relationships. Alice was hit by a car while walking, and is in the rehab phase of things. She's working to regain mobility after a broken pelvis, a broken arm, and a broken nose. It's scary to realize how, in the blink of an eye, life can lurch and our plans for a time are displaced by survival and healing. We...

Killing time~

I'd woken feeling stuffy headed, slightly allergy-ish, puffy-eyed, and a tad grumpy. Lots to do, little time in which to do it, school issues keeping me in a state of angst, I considered not going to David's game. But it was Saturday, the game fairly close to home-- Salem State College-- an hour or so north through Boston to the town of Salem, famous for the 1692 witch trials that saw 19 suspected witches, many of them social outcasts, hang on Gallows Hill. A change of pace was what I needed whether I wanted it or not, so I went. I squeezed in a walk around the block that enclosed Salem State's O'Keefe Center while waiting for the game to begin. Just to kill time. I get so few chances to do that. Others walking, too, passed with no eye contact, no greetings, just sharing the same planet. Two were coming toward me. Still unfocused in the distance . . . one was tall, the other short . . . two men . . . loose clothing . . . like army clothes, camouflage . . . beard and lon...

Missing Becky~

Becky~ August 19, 1991 to April 26, 2010 She was so loved, this gentle pet of mine. And how she loved us back. I've been alone in my house before, of course. Those days when my husband took the kids out for the day, being able to vacuum without a baby in one arm and a toddler, riding the vacuum cleaner like it was a bronco, was solitary pleasure. Later there were quiet days as the kids were at camp and my husband at work. And then came the bittersweet aloneness when kids left home for college and a life apart. Still, I'd always liked being alone, knowing it was short lived. This morning, after my husband pulled out of the driveway with a day full of plans, I stood in the living room feeling alone in a way I never had before. An unfamiliar emptiness and silence surrounded me. Yesterday we put our 18-year-old cat, Becky, to sleep. The decision to do so was surprisingly easy. The vet had told us Becky would let us know when it was time, and somehow she did. But ...

~Upstream and Down~

Search This Blog