transplants

Talked to my daughter yesterday. We talked about Texas, and how it will always be a part of who I am. The first month that I was here, she sent me a few seed packets filled with bluebonnets and wildflower mix. With the coming of spring I knew I would miss these pieces of Texas. I smiled when they came in the mail, and wondered if they would survive here - and if I would be able to make this new place my home.

I waited until the weather turned to plant them, as spring here is a few months behind Texas. After a few sunny, warm days last week, I decided it was time to drop them in clay pots and wait. And so I planted them and waited. One week later, sprouts appeared, and this morning, I noticed that they are thriving. And I'm taking it as an affirmation - a sign that even I can grow and thrive in this climate, despite the fact that Texas is so much a part of who I am.

I'm sure that much of that has to do with the emotional environment in which I have planted myself, and the nurturing gentle way of the "gardener" who shares my house.

Yesterday afternoon was not good. I received a packet from my lawyer reminding me that I have to deal with stuff back in Texas - my unfinished business. This I have avoided at all costs, preferring instead to be like the wildflower seeds, warm and safe in the packet, away from the elements that might harm them.

But like the wildflowers, I know that I can only thrive and grow when I allow myself to be exposed to the conditions outside. And so I will face the emotional storm that brews outside the safety of my little rent house in South Dakota. When the conditions are really stormy, I will remember the warmth of the sun, and the gardener who offers cover when things get tough. And I will remember that the thunder and lightening cannot hurt me. That I have taken root, and I am safe. I will thrive and grow, like the bluebonnets. And I will remember Texas fondly as I sway, smile, and lift my face to the South Dakota sun.