The Diseased and the Dead

This year's garden was a challenge.  It began with a colder-than-normal spring and progressed to a grub infestation.  Shortly after, blight took center stage.  As an organic gardener, I had to roll with the punches, harvest what I could, and make promises for next spring.

Today, I cleaned out the remains of my tomato plants.  I started with about 70 plants, but blight eventually claimed them all.  Nonetheless, flowers and fruit persisted, so I do have some sauce, soup, roasted tomatoes and sun-dried tomatoes to satisfy me throughout the winter.  Still, it was sad to yank the diseased and dead plants.

Always looking for metaphor, I am thinking about the diseased and the dead.  Seems they are always being yanked from us.  And what does that do to us?  Leaves us feeling sad, screwed, cheated, and empty.

Aha!  But they always leave something behind!  I have been busy using whatever fruit my diseased tomato plants have left for me and turning them into sustenance for the coming winter. 

 
So ask yourself this:  what have your diseased and dead loved ones left for you to harvest?  Figure it out and get busy.  Preserve those memories, those lessons, those adages.  Store them in a safe place and call them up when needed.

There is love in what remains.  Find it.