SUNDAY was extremely hot. I was supposed to go out and meet family relations, but the heat was intense, I decided to stay indoors. Can’t risk another health concern since I just completed my asthma medication. That was a long list from my doctor, I tell you.
After several months of unceasing rains, the heat is finally here and punishing at that! And with the heat and minimal rains, I must water the plants daily or risk their withering and eventual death. Hmm thoughts are forming in my head with this last line.
Some people find joy in unique and extreme hobbies and passions; others in the simplest and most mundane of tasks like watering the plants. I must tell you I grew up watering the seemingly endless plants of my mom. That time – this was when I was a kid, there was no water supply in the house. We had to pump water and carry the pails all the way to the plants. Can you imagine the labor, haha! That was heavy work for my small shoulders, but I survived the ordeal.
Fast forward to the present, there is a steady supply of water and a lengthy hose that enables me to reach the farthest nook. Talk about modern convenience huh!
I enjoy watering the plants especially that I have planted my own choices since my return. One particular flowering plant that I have missed is Rosal or Gardenia jasminoides. I’m glad I was able to secure one from my aunt Marcing Auxtero Sales in Talibon last October. It is blossoming right now but since it’s the variegated type, the flowers are smaller compared to the unadulterated variety. Nevertheless, I’m elated it is blooming for the summer. It’s a symbolism that I am home, and the residual embers of a betrayed memory are finally dying. Hopefully.
Haha, if there are sputters of recollection, blame it on my soul work.
As I am writing, my eyes are directly facing the dry weeds and leaves cleared by Liezel, the sturdy housekeeper. I have the tiniest temptation to burn it but like I said I can’t risk another asthma attack so I just have to suffer its ugly sight. I used to burn dry leaves and weeds growing up. It formed part of my youth as well. And back then, I was told the smoke drives away mosquitoes, so I always did it with gusto! It is mundane but it’s the one I preferred.
Observing the yard, I have satisfaction knowing the weeds are not growing fast because of the summer heat. I’m finally beating the weeds into submission and I’m smug about it! Ah, another crackle: I wonder if this person who owes me a professional courtesy and explanation will do so in his lifetime.
During the past few months, the weeds grew abundantly because they are nurtured almost daily but now, ah, they have to survive the heat. “Survive to thrive” isn’t only for people. It covers the whole spectrum of the living species on earth.
On a final note, like plants, we also have our seasons. The tasks will change; the paradigm will shift. We may move to another place or return to our original base. It’s a never-ending progression that enables us to dig deeper into our soul and fluidly or solidly measure where we are spot-on: at the exact phase we find ourselves in.
I believe in seasons. My hardest lesson on the seasons of life was when I lost my mother when I was only thirty-five. The pain and sense of loss was searing; it created a deep void in my heart. I struggled with the loss for two years before the pain gradually ebbed away. But just like what I read in a book to cope with my loss: “Sorrow comes in waves.” Today it will seem okay and then the next you will gasp because the pain will come hurtling back, you will lose your balance and stagger while impelling yourself to overcome. Truth is, you never overcome, it will just gradually fade away. You just need to be patient.
And with that, comes another sputter.
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The writer hosts Woman Talk with Belinda Sales at 91.1 Balita FM Tagbilaran City every Saturday, 4 p.m. to 5 p.m. She can be reached at Belindabelsales@gmail.com. Twitter @ShilohRuthie/PN
