When most people think of azaleas, they think of large, usually red, flowering bushes. This is not the case for mine. It is a little thing, even after being here for almost 9 years.

It isn’t actually *my* azalea, it is my mother-in-law’s. When we bought this house, we invited them to move in with us for reasons. She asked if she could bring the two azalea bushes from their old house to plant here. I didn’t see a reason why not, they were beautiful at their old house. So, my husband dug them up  and planted them here in our new flower beds.

Not long after, one of the bushes died. The root system was damaged when they dug it up to the point it couldn’t be saved. This one wasn’t faring much better. It was important to me to save it since these azaleas belonged to my mother-in-law’s mother. She had dug them up from her mother’s yard when she had passed and planted them in her own yard. This would be their third home.

Determined to save this one, I researched and made a plan. I ended up cutting it so far back that only two little sticks – branches less than 12in tall that had green leaves – were left. We bought special azalea food for it and I religiously pruned and weeded it for years trying to encourage new growth.

Two years ago, it began to bloom once again. It started to fill out and now it looks like it is just a new bush, not one that should be decades old. This year I realized that it is saved, it is thriving and growing. It will be here long after my mother-in-law has passed and I will be able to tell the story to my children and maybe even my grandchildren of where it came from and how it survived with a little love and care.

It isn’t much to look at now as spring is just starting. In a few months the leaves with be a jewel green and ruby flowers will open up their faces to the sun. I have no doubt that in another 9 years it will be closer to its former glory and be a show piece of my flower garden.

I am sure there is a metaphor here, somewhere. Maybe a better writer than me could tell how just a little time, attention, patience, and kindness can help a struggling thing thrive and grow.

But, there is only me and so I can only  tell how I am looking forward to the flowers.


No More Distractions

We are coming up on the 1yr anniversary of being in lockdown for a global pandemic. In March of 2020, the United States recognized that the COVID-19 virus was actually a threat and many states, like my own, imposed movement restrictions on their residents. It was only supposed to last a few weeks, a few months at most. Now it is January 2021 and we have no sign of anything letting up. Continue reading “No More Distractions”

Writing Workshop 1

Originally posted on an old blog on July 10, 2019

This was written in a workshop and the prompt was the first line from Rudy Francisco’s poem “Petal” from his book Helium


The tongue has a jagged beauty

Some of the words you say are beautiful enough enough for the flower garden, bright and happy in the sun. Some of your words are like shattered glass that I have to tip toe around. I miss the days of dandelion words shining yellow in dark days when all is thought to be lost. You would bring me so many yellow flowers they would burst like fireworks from your pockets, the words you spoke were unconditional and reverent. Small words, child words full of love and hope that you now you wield like a broken bottle in a bar fight. Not always because of me, but always directed at me. I am no longer the sun around which your little planet revolved but the annoyance. The cop, the judge, the one who restrains, the one who controls. You don’t see my pain as you cut me. I try to hide it when I can. You are learning life. You know I will never leave. You don’t know that I understand. I have been there. I have hurt with my words. It is my penance to accept the scars you give me as punishment for the scars I have given. You don’t know what one day you will have scars to match mine. I hope you accept them with grace. I hope you are patient as they are created. I hope you will be able to see the beauty in them as I have.