Welcome to my healing garden

Eight years ago, my garden died. The whole thing. In a day. My husband had to get to the sagging supports so the porch didn't collapse, taking the front of the house with it. Noble cause. No delays.

Every plant I'd tended since we'd moved in, gone- dead on the bottom of a giant dirt pile. No warning, no ceremony, no goodbyes. Gone. Smooshed flat. Smothered in the dark.

Which embodied what had just happened to me, to my life. The birth of my first child ripped open every unsound place in my soul. God had promised me that she would be grace to me. And here I lay, smothered in a mercy so severe, I couldn't move. Could barely sleep or breathe.

Fall, then winter, then spring came. I went outside and found to my delight that 2 plants had survived- a spearmint and a chive- growing out of the side of the dirt pile. I recognized myself and my soul's cry in them. I built a healing garden, transplanted the brave mint and chive, and began healing gardening.

Over the years, I have added to my healing garden. I plant only perennials and only the hardy survive. There had been only herbs- thyme, hyssop, yarrow, chamomile, chives, and an ever growing mint. I divided the mint last year to put it in the worst spot in my yard- the tiny strip between garage and alley. I am proud to say that not only is the mint-who-lived thriving, a chive tagged along unbeknownst to me and is also in bloom.

This spring, my garden was full and I wanted some space for something new. I posted my front yard's perennial garden on Craig's List and had so much fun giving it away to the people who came, that I also gave away the rhubarb, a German chamomile, and some of the mint and chives from the healing garden. The rhubarb went to a farm in Wisconsin, the chamomile to North Minneapolis, and the mint and chives to a beginning garden along with their story for an auspicious start. In the open place, I planted Pastor Kevin's peonies and a bunch of stargazer lilies for Michael.

I, too, am She-who-lived. After a very long season, I am full and ready with a space for something new. So, here we are.

Welcome to my garden. Want some mint?