deep in yellow

I spent the morning in the garden. I planted sunflowers.
When I moved into this house, I envisioned my favorite golden flower growing in the yard.
Determined to see the bold yellow I remember of my drives through Umbria, I painted my house yellow, and held on to the hope that I would see the blooms that inspired it.

I tried last year to plant them, but I made the mistake of sowing the seeds directly in the ground. I expected those dry shells to shoot roots down into the garden next to my bulbs and grow strong stalks along side the grasses and ground covers, tall enough to bear heavy brown centered blooms. I had to plant them somewhat shallow, or they seedlings might never have made their way to the surface. Most of them sprouted, but immediately shriveled up or fell over and couldn't grow tall enough to blossom. The little sprouts were too weak to brave the weather, and the roots and bases of the stalks weren't deep enough to hold the weight of the growing leaves. I had maybe two pathetic little flowers that lay on the ground to bloom.
I also planted bulbs in the fall, but although they grew and bloomed this spring, because I did not plant them deep enough, the stalks fell over and lay on the ground before blooming. Those bulbs will need to be dug up and re-planted. The stalks will take longer to grow next year, but the waiting will produce stronger stalks that will hold the blooms up off the ground. The effort I put in will be worth the larger blooms.

It's been almost four years since my separation, and over a year since my final divorce.

The first year after the separation, I focused on survival. I was still married; he just wasn't there anymore.  I tried to keep life as 'normal' as I could in order to keep a stable home for my children. We stayed in the same house, we went to the same church, and we kept our schedule as close to what it was before their father was arrested. My healing came in the form of dealing with separation, and managing life without another adult in the house. There was little that was apparent to my personal growth.  I was shedding pain and anger, but living one day at a time, nearly emotionally dormant, with nothing being planted for the future.

After a year, when I had pushed and prayed past the anger toward my former spouse, and learned to forgive him,  I made the decision - with the advice and support of a holy priest- to divorce and file a petition for a declaration of nullity.  I started noticing when people paid attention to me, telling me I deserved respect. I was beginning to see where Tom ended and I began- a line that had been blurred to me for the past twenty-six years.

I literally grew half an inch. Was I just standing up straighter?

I started sowing the seeds of personal growth. I was afraid to plant them too deep though, for fear they would just lay dormant and buried and so most of what emerged from the seeds was too frail when they broke through the surface. The relationships I tried to cultivate tried to bloom before they had strong roots and they either shriveled up, or fell over lifeless. I knew I needed to go deeper.

This year, I got wise. I took the time to plant the seeds in a starter box. I watered the seeds, covered them and left them to germinate. When the first seedling appeared, I uncovered them and moved them to a window.

 

I kept them watered, turned the box  when needed so the tiny stalks grew straight, and left them to grow.



 

Then I planted each seedling in rich soil, in a large pot, putting the pod deep into the pot, covering most of the stalk. Much of the growth was then covered up, and couldn't be seen. But the plants were strengthened by soil surrounding the stalks, and the depth of the roots.

When the weather turned warmer, I put the pots out in the sun, but I didn't plant the seedlings right away.

Only when the stalks were what I thought to be tall enough and strong enough did I transplant them into the garden. Then, I planted them even deeper than they were in the pots, making sure the roots had a good hold in the dirt, and the seedlings would have plenty of support for growing tall. I added more soil, covering even more of the growth of each seedling.

I've unearthed some deeper understanding of my former spouse's issues. This new understanding has brought me a great deal more empathy and even more peace. I also have more patience now for slow and steady growth.

The bulbs I dug up last year and planted deeper take longer to get the surface, but the stalks are strong, and the blooms are worth the wait. Maybe now they are deep enough to divide and multiply. The sunflower seedlings, though still smaller than the surrounding flowers in the garden, are growing straight and steadily. There won't be anything to show for the tedious work put into them for quite some time, but they show promise of an Umbrian garden, with tall strong stalks, deep roots, and lots and lots of happy, golden yellow.