7.18.15 How it is with love

     My daughter comes by today, to help w painting in the rental cottage , to see me and her Dad. 
     We go look at the amazing bounty from the garden he planted, and she happily fills bag after bag with fresh produce . 
     We walk through my herb gardens, and she takes photos , as I identify plant after beloved plant , describing their medicinal properties . She is awash with delight, saying how much her boyfriend would love to be here, for this; he studying to be a Naturopath and Acupuncturist, she studying to be an Acupuncturist and Herbalist .
     And as we meander through and gaze at plants, it all comes round to me.
     All the years, after her birth; all the ages and struggles and remarkable experiences and injuries and the revelation of individual challenges, of gifts. 

           Children are like saplings, a largely unidentified genus.  

 

     You have no idea what their particulars are, or will become . 

     So you tender them , in between being a very human parent, and grossly imperfect, with the very best of intentions.
     You tender them and water and weed and fertilize. You wrap them with burlap for hard times and aerate their soil for hot weather.
     And you sit with them and watch , and discover what kind of tree they slowly , irrevocably, become.