I separated & transplanted this Oregano plant just before our first frost. She was given a front row seat at my coffee station, close to the window, where she could soak up the morning sun. With the night time temperatures plummeting quickly, I just knew she’d be grateful.
Instead? She promptly began to shrivel and die! 😱
Some gardeners might have given up on her, but I was patient. I know change is hard! I understand that being uprooted & forced to endure situations beyond our control can stress us to the breaking point. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy transition but thankfully, I have lived long enough to trust that time and love are mighty healers.
The days marched forward. The chilly November nights gave way to brutally killing frosts. Every morning, I would pull back the curtain and welcome the morning sun on her behalf. Once each week, I faithfully watered her, and tenderly swept up the vast amount of crispy, dead leaves she kept dropping. She was stubborn and made sure I was aware of her resentment of the change.
Honestly, there were days when I wasn’t sure she would make it. Perhaps I really had pushed her beyond her limitations? It was possible. I had dug deep in the garden the day I took her. I severed long roots and tore apart alliances she had made with the plants surrounding her. Some of the plants I do this to don’t survive being transplanted. The possibility didn’t change my resolve. After all, leaving her in the garden would have guaranteed her demise. At least this way, she would have a fighting chance!
The months have slowly passed. Her struggle has been obvious, even though she’s been silent. It is now mid January. From my office window, our yard looks like a barren wasteland. Her old garden friends are entombed under 8″ of snow and ice. Had I left her in her comfortable old home, she would be dead by now, a victim of the harshness of these frigid Missouri winters.
Ah, but I am happy to report that this morning, when I went to check on her, I found that she’s showing signs of new growth. She’s clearly “accepted” the changes life has pushed upon her & has finally determined to make the most of her new circumstances. New leaves are sprouting. There are even a couple of tender new shoots popping up in the clay pot. It’s going to take awhile for her to make a full recovery–yes, that’s true. But eventually, she’s going to get there!
Just so you know– this can work with people too. Yes– even you!
How do we get from “here” to “there” ? It’s a process, my friend. First? Be gentle as you make your transitions. Realize that changes can be painful and recovery might come slower than you were hoping. Next? Nurture yourself with regularity. You can’t expect to ignore your needs and do any amount of thriving! Allow yourself time to soak up the sun. Eat quality meals. Drink enough water. Get out and move around. Be less concerned about how things look from the outside and focus primarily on getting settled into this new “place” where life has planted you. Lastly, be wise and recognize that there will probably be a season of rest, where it looks like nothing is happening. We all know that looks can be deceiving. Trust the process! Often our biggest growth comes from “quiet” seasons.
It takes both courage and faith to do these things. But Dear One, time & love are mighty healers! Once again, our amazing Creator has given us a gardening analogy that provides a valuable life lesson. It is possible to experience trauma and thrive! I hope this serves a encouragement.
Until Next Time,
