For some reason, I've been feeling remiss in writing so much about our garden, and so little about "How's Robb."
I think part of this is being in a new home. At the old place, there were always reminders about how life used to be before Robb's spinal cord injury. Here, I spend less time comparing "before" and "after." Maybe it's not the house. Maybe it's just where we've come to in our lives. Maybe we've moved past the crisis of the accident and adjusting to all the changes, and have resumed living our lives.
I don't know.
Yesterday, our kitty Linguine climbed up on one of our fences, and got herself stuck. This fence has barbed wire (which I keep meaning to remove) on top, and I was worried that she might slip and hurt herself. I grabbed the ladder, and Robb and I scooped her off the fence. My high perch afforded me a view of the yards that abut our back fence. Unlike our tiny green garden, there was nothing growing in these yards. Dusty packed dirt: that's all there was.
When I climbed down from the ladder, I had a new sense of perspective, about both our garden and our lives.
I'm sure many people would look at our garden and only see a tangled mess. Sure, our garden needs a lot of work. But we've accomplished a huge amount, and we're proud of what we've done. We've cleared away years of accumulated debris and things are thriving. It's ours. And it's an oasis for living creatures in the middle of a huge city.
And pretty much could be said about our lives.
Some people would look at our lives and only see the bad parts, the messy bits, the lack of resolution. But despite occasional (and well-deserved) freak-outs, we're happy with what we've got, and what we've accomplished.
It's not big,or particularly impressive, but it's ours.