Life after Divorce
My daughter, Robbye, loved to plant flowers and dig in the dirt when she was a little girl. She must have inherited that talent and love of gardening from her grandparents, certainly not from her mother.
During her last year at home before going away to college she planted sunflower seeds in the backyard of our home, along the wooden fence and next to the gate leading out to the driveway. Soon the tiny green shoots broke through the hard clay soil. With Robbye’s love and attention they soon stood taller than the eight foot wooden fence. The first blooms brought her such joy. The smile on her face was as big, bold, and beautiful as the sunflowers themselves. That summer, as an avid photographer, Robbye took many photos of the blooming sunflowers. They became a favorite backdrop for taking pictures of her friends. One particular photograph was shot up close into the golden brown center of the flower. The detail was magnificent! The picture turned out perfectly. We had it enlarged, framed and matted in a frame with a green border then hung it in her room as a focal point of her décor.
I had no idea that those big, bold, beautiful sunflowers would become so meaningful to me, personally, as our family went their separate ways. Robbye was off to her freshman year at Texas Tech, driving her cute little red convertible with her golden blond hair blowing in the breeze. Her big brother, Chris, was away in Arkansas attending college too. I really missed him and the long philosophical conversations we often shared.
That year divorce ripped our family apart. Even though I was left with the house, it was a lonely place without all the people and activities which once filled it. Add symptoms of menopause to that broken family life I had always known, and I became one miserable woman! The quietness of the empty nest was truly more than I could bear.
One morning as I was going out the back gate of our yard there was one of Robbye’s sunflowers that almost seemed to turn its head in the breeze and smile at me.
“Oh, my, you look beautiful, bright and happy today,” I said. As I remember, the sunflower seemed to respond! Yes, right then it’s possible that I could have qualified for a straight jacket and a padded room in some mental hospital, at this terrible time. I was devastated! Life, as I had known it for twenty-five years was shattered like thousands of pieces of glass. My children were angry by the divorce. They stayed away. They wanted no part of this divorce process and they certainly were not going to take sides.
Being alone, I found that I would talk to myself a lot. However, as anyone knows who lives alone, it’s not uncommon to talk to your self, so talking to a flower seemed quite normal to me. In fact, I believe I read somewhere that talking to plants is very therapeutic for the plant. I found that talking to the flowers was just as therapeutic to me.
The long days turned into weeks as the scorching hot Texas sun beat down on the sunflowers. With a little water from the garden hose they grew taller, bigger, and bolder in color. Now, I became intrigued as they responded to my conversation, a spray of water, and the morning sun. I noticed how they seemed to enjoy the sunrise as much as I did. They were the only friends I had that were willing to wake up and visit with me at four-thirty or five in the mornings. Their droopy, sleepy heads seemed to wake up as if they were ready to seize the day! Their lovely dark brown centers faced the morning sun in the east and in the evenings they would turn their faces to the west to take in the hot searing rays that made them much more colorful. I remember thinking what amazing plants these sunflowers are. They provided food and shelter for a variety of colorful birds both of which gave me so much joy. The sunflowers and the birds became part of my healing during that lonely time.
It was interesting to me that no matter how hard it rained or how gusty the wind, the flowers still stood tall and faced the sun when it came back out from behind the clouds. I couldn’t help but think how my own life seemed so much better when I turned toward the light instead of wallowing in the darkness of depression and self-pity. As my healing began to take place, the sunflowers brought smiles to my face and purpose to my life. They were the “medicine” I needed.
As a mother I needed something or someone to care for. That had been my life’s work. It was a simple pleasure taking care of the flowers and watching them grow. My reward was to enjoy the big, beautiful bouquet that centered our Wedgewood-blue, glass-topped rattan breakfast table. I had always said, “If I were rich I would have fresh flowers in my home every single day.” These simple sunflowers were like a pot of gold to my soul. I had found true wealth in an unexpected source, right in my own backyard. Loving and caring for the flowers gave me purpose and helped me to regain the peace I longed for.