How to escape a big bad funk
For the last five days, I’ve been in a freaky funk. I felt like a zombie, and Halloween is still weeks away. I sat in my pajamas and didn’t answer the phone or e-mails.
Nothing. Not a batch of chocolate chip cookies consumed in the raw dough stage, or big gridiron wins by my Bulldogs, Rebels or Saints could pull me out of it.
I was thinking of jumping off my back porch, but all I would get is a sprained ankle.
Loss. That’s what caused this depression. The world lost a wonderful woman when my friend, Mike, died last Wednesday. I’m wondering why I’m left here and who’s going to fill her shoes. Of course, no one can.
As I pondered these questions I walked out back into my secret garden – it’s a secret because it’s so messy and unsightly that I don’t want anyone else see it – all grown up in weeds and uninvited botanical guests.
Imagine my surprise when I saw a single bloom on my ginger lily which was about to be choked out by a bamboo plant that I can’t kill. That wouldn’t be so remarkable except that Mike gave me that ginger lily five years ago. It’s never bloomed. Five years, not a single bloom.
The foliage is lovely so I didn’t really care so much, but I thought of her every time I watered that plant. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t make it bloom? I complained to her and she said “Be patient and treat it nice, it will bloom.” I think that must have been her philosophy of life.
How strange that it bloomed as she was leaving us. I have a slice of her life still thriving in my yard. I will nourish it, divide it, and give it to my friends. I will see her smile as I give it away.
That’s what Mike was all about. Giving it away, and not caring what came back.
Emily Jones is a retired journalist who lives in Starkville, Mississippi. She edits a website for bouncing baby boomers facing retirement. She welcomes comments at www.deludeddiva.com.