There has been a running dialogue in my head with you today. I suppose it started with the smell of strawberries in the kitchen this morning. I started thinking about how anytime I would see you in the spring and early summer we always had strawberries. Because you would freeze them, I guess we had them whenever I visited. My mind wandered to memories of you all day. Maybe it is because the last time I saw you it was this week, three years ago. Does the mind subconsciously remember such things? This afternoon, as I sliced the strawberries before Jonny got home, I just thought about you and wondered how you are doing. Wondered where you are now. Just wondered. I keep thinking about how I have been drawn to the color green for the last year or so…longer than that now I guess. It is that nature green…that bright leafy, grass green that I seem to want to soak in. Though, I guess, I am drawn to all shades of it lately (as evidenced by my clothes and jewelry and the fabric I buy), but it is the grass green that seems to be important. It is the color that seems to be whispering "grow" to me. Maybe it is you whispering that word to me through this color. Through the leaves on the tulips all spring. Through the warm, thick grass in the backyard. Through the oregano that comes back each year in our little patch of "garden." Through the green of the plants I decided I had to plant late this evening. I was working late and decided that even though dusk was fast approaching, I just wanted to put those annuals into the pots and not wait another day. And, as I turned over the soil and moved it to the side to put them into the pots, I found myself talking to you again. Letting you know that even though I may not have your gardening abilities or that I do not love it to the extent you did, putting those plants in the soil in those pots helps me feel close to you. Helps me to feel a connection. Of course, it also makes my back hurt like hell. Goodness my back is the back of someone with sciatica. It felt good to just tell you about that too. Just like I was catching you up on my life as though we were talking as we used to. I started wondering if you used to wear gloves when you would plant things. I think so. I waited for an answer as I thought the question. Maybe you will remind me when I plant the herbs later this week. I told you that I thought you would have laughed at me out there wearing my wedding ring in all that soil and you would have shook your head in disbelief that I was planting things so late. But, then I had the thought that maybe you understood. You understood my need to feel this closeness. Our relationship has shifted. And, as I talked to you this evening, I felt this bit of space inside me that seemed to indicate that you understand. That there is just knowing now. And, that is okay.
It feels so good to talk to you. And, it wasn't a conversation filled with sobs or moments of literal heart ache. No, it was just me talking to you. Just me feeling connected.
(see more self-portraits at self-portrait challenge)
