It used to be (and occasionally still is) that Stella’s vulnerability is too much for me to take, because it can mirror my own so closely that it’s scary. It was hard enough for me to feel that vulnerability to life’s changes and experience the sense of powerlessness that comes during such a life transition. But to see it reflected back at me in my child’s eyes was more than I could bear in the beginning.

Now, a year and a half later, something is different. I’ve learned not to fear that vulnerability, but rather to embrace it. I’m realizing that there is so much to be found there- the space to connect to myself and to be open to possibility. I used to think that it was too much- all the scary growth and change that was going on in this house simultaneously. But now I wonder if Stella hasn’t helped to move me deeper in this journey. Children can certainly be overwhelming in their level of intensity but I think they can also remind us to be in the present and truly feel all of it’s highs and lows. Certainly I have reached greater highs with her than I had before her existence. Now I will take the time to dance with her in the messy kitchen with dirty dishes around us and close my eyes and soak her in. Because of her, I have learned to treasure the present moment. And perhaps this strengthens me when I must dive deeper into the loss. As Elizabeth Lesser writes in her book, Broken Open:

“When we descend all the way down to the bottom of a loss, and dwell patiently, with an open heart, in the darkness and pain, we can bring back up with us the sweetness of life and the exhilaration of inner growth. When there is nothing left to lose, we find the true self — the self that is whole, the self that is enough, the self that no longer looks to others for definition, or completion, or anything but companionship on the journey.”

Another thing about single parenting is that you don’t have that other adult there who you can sit back and watch interact with your child. Because I share Stella’s time, I try to really enjoy the moments I’m with her. But there is something about being able to watch my child without having to be the one right there caring for and playing with her. I can sit back and really soak up the incredible person she is.

So thanks, mom and dad, from the bottom of my heart. We love you, Bubba and Gaga!

Winter tea party with Bubba

Hanging with Gaga at the butterfly museum

Joining with Soule Mama and others on this lovely weekly ritual.

Free broccoli leaf (if I can find it under the snow) for anyone who can identify it for me;-)

Joining with Soule Mama and others on this lovely weekly ritual.

-best quote of the week from the 2.5 year old.

Fall salad greens from the garden. yum.

Beautiful fall days.

So, back to the garlic. Last season I got creative and planted a garlic maze in Stella’s garden.

In a typical act of rebellion, Stella often sat in the maze but it was still enjoyed by many.

This year I wanted to try to do a couple beds to see what that’s like. I harvested the maze in late July and trimmed and bunched the garlic and hung it to dry in my garage. Then, a week or so ago we had a little garden party with our friends and the toddlers helped clean the garlic a bit. It turned out to be a fun little activity. They grabbed the stalks and held them for me while I cut off the bulb and they put the stalk in the appropriate pile.. Then I loosened up the cloves so they could break them apart the rest of the day. A week or so later I planted the cloves.

I tilled in a layer of bagged composted cow manure and planted four rows of garlic in rows that were 8 inches apart with about 8 inches between each clove in the row.

Planted pointy side up a couple of inches deep. Tucked into their new home I then added a fresh layer of straw mulch to protect them over the winter. Once they start poking their hopeful green heads through the soil in the spring, I’ll keep the mulch on them but make sure they can all find a spot to emerge.

I’m not afraid to admit that when Stella’s not in the garden with me, I’m still apt to wish the garlic sweet dreams in their winter bed.

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Joining with Soule Mama and others on this lovely weekly ritual.

Knowing their season was coming to a close, I decided to stop and really savor them. Stopping made me want to savor the garden. I felt so thankful for everything I got from it this season. Not just a food source, it has been my constant healing companion throughout my divorce.  While I was saying some quiet thanks to the plants, I reflected on how many cherry tomatoes these same plants have produced for months. Incredible amounts that have been frozen, roasted, made into sauce, dripped down the chins of toddlers. And now, even with a nip of frost and drooping stems, they are still producing. This seems not unlike what moms do. They give their sweet gifts to folks around them and as those gifts are taken, those moms continue to give more. Over and over again. Despite their tired limbs and occasional frost nipped spirits, they produce… love, nutrition and sweetness. And single moms do it on their own, without another adult there to talk through midnight wakings or run over to the store to grab more milk. And often with custody, financial and co-parenting issues to deal with as well. I have met many incredibly strong single moms in the past year who continue to amaze me with their wisdom, endurance and deep love.

Incredible, vital strength it is, that of moms and gardens!

She hasn’t played a show in the valley in quite some time. Every now and then I’ll check her web site to see where she’ll be next and scroll down to find nope, no western mass. again. So a month or so ago I went on her site determined to drive to wherever she would be. I was getting ready to plan a trip to Maine or Vermont or even Colorado- good excuse, right? When I realized she was playing in my town. So I bought tickets then and there for the November show. By myself. Why the heck not, right? Several of my wise women friends who have been single for longer than I have advised me to find the joy in going out by myself. And I am working on it, even found a bit of joy here and there. So I’m going and I’m psyched.

In anticipation of the show I just bought her recent album, the Harrow and the Harvest. Just in time for fall.  There’s a beautiful song called Hard Times. The chorus,  “we’re gonna make it, yeah, we’re gonna make it to the end of the row. Hard times aint gonna rule my mind no more” really struck me. It feels like it sums up a lot of where I’ve been at lately. Difficult times can leave such a residue in my mind, tainting my current experience as well as future choices. There’s a resoluteness I can tap into in her words. It’s a determination to not let the hurts of the past (and present) determine my current happiness and choices or sense of self. Easier said than done, I suppose. But while going for a run with Gillian’s songs the other day, I realized there’s a place of choosing happiness that’s within my grasp if I can only try to return to it. And use it to be more open to new ways of looking at myself, my future relationships and professional choices. Another good musical selection for happiness grasping- the Jackson 5. Aint nothin like a little motown.

I realize this also applies to the garden. There’s so much shaping of present experience based on past failures or challenges. Take Stella’s garden, for instance. I’ve walked by it several times and my eyes wander over the bean tepee that never really was, the tunnel with overgrown beans that haven’t been picked and the sunflower house that never quite registered with the toddler. But then the other day I noticed the patch of earth on the other side of her garden that I had just tilled and remember all that we had gotten out of it…. delicious strawberries that my child and many of our friends enjoyed, a garlic maze that many toddlers wandered through and a ton of garlic to boot.

And then there’s the green beans in my fridge that for some reason have yet to pickle themselves. But then there was the freezing frenzy that took hold a few weeks ago and left me with this and more.

The fall feels like a time to reflect on all the beauty of the season amidst all of the dying and decomposition that takes place this time of year. Looking out over my garden, I see that tilled patch in Stella’s garden that used to be home to garlic and strawberries and imagine the raspberries that I plan to put there next. I see yellowing leaves of a fall garden and feel thankful for all that those plants have given me as well as the colors still hanging on, the fall peas just getting going and the fall greens just emerging from the soil- a joyful combination of letting go and growing forward.

So with gardening, relationships, self care and parenting, I aim to let the hard times rule my head no longer. You?