The garden is saving my sanity. Even on the days my body feels horrendous and the tremors were so bad I would vomit, those few moments of clarity I would imagine it.

Perhaps it’s the garden of hope.No that’s too corny and until this week I’ve not had the energy or health to hope.

Maybe the garden of acceptance for this disability that has knocked me on my ass.

I don’t know what to name this year’s crop and flowers.You know what, that’s OK. I understand now I can have goals without deadlines. I still have value even without a career or the ability to care for my children full-time.

(found in a journal originally written April 2011)