“Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.”
Annie Dillard
It was near this time five years ago that I received a gift I’ll never forget.
First the backstory: March 6, 2008 was the date I got the diagnosis of early stage breast cancer. Within days I was on a freight train hurtling towards all the intensely disorienting treatments that would occupy the remainder of that year.
The gift came soon after. I was having lunch with a few friends when I noticed that one woman, Susan Campbell, was quietly lost in thought. When she finally spoke she said, “You may not be able to have much of a garden this summer with the chemo going on and I don’t like the thought of you without your flowers. How about if I come over and plant a garden for you?”
I was stunned. Susan was so far ahead of me; I could only focus on getting through the day, one foot in front of another. But she looked at the future, put me into it, then thought of something she could do to make a better future. I knew in that moment that she had really seen me and thought creatively for me when I was running on empty.
To this day, when people ask—as many do—what can I do for someone (friend, aunt, mother, brother, co-worker) who has been diagnosed with cancer, I think about Susan. I say to them: “believe me, you are more creative than you know; just put yourselves in their life, even for a few minutes, and you’ll know what to do.”
And so it happened that the day I received my very first chemo treatment, which made me feel sick and cold and entirely whupped, Susan showed up with plants and a trowel. She was ruddy and red-haired, dressed in overalls and clogs, (the clogs being a de rigueur Portland look that people living in more stylish places joke about.) She planted flowers, not wanting to give me anything too challenging to harvest. I sat on the edge of a raised bed, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of hot tea steaming up my glasses.
Then she was gone likety-split. I didn’t see her the rest of that summer. But I had flowers. Susan had left her spirit in my garden. Some days that kindness makes me weep.
I have always been someone who believed in the redemptive power of gratitude. Put simply, it takes me out of myself. Gratitude has made me both stronger and more gentle. And something more: I see the larger picture of life when I connect the dots with gratitude.
So today, after reading yet another article about the ongoing plight of bees in most of our country, I’m moved to plant a few flowers that are bee food and habitat. After all, bees are the most important pollinators of many foods we rely upon, and this increasing disaster has been going on for far too long even as scientists clearly identify the causes.
With this in mind, I am joining Donna at Gardens Eye View to host a seed giveaway. It’s a tiny step, but if we all do it, we are part of the solution.
Here are the simple rules: Donna and I will each contribute five seed packets especially designed to attract bees. The first ten people to contribute a comment on this blog will receive a package of seeds in the mail. In a tie, we’ll have an impartial judge pick the winners from a hat. (Maybe we can press Gandhi the Gardener into service.) Then Donna and I will mail the seeds to you through snail mail no later than May 1st, 2013. (Sorry, all seeds must stay within the continental United States.) When I get your comment, I’ll write you to ask for your snail mail address. Of course, it will remain private.
Why am I giving away seeds for comments? Your comments mean so much, and not only to me. Others have written in and mentioned that something someone else said affected them or gave them a new point of view. It is part of our building community around ideas. So please do check in if you leave a comment, I will respond and sometimes someone else will too. Have a question or a differing point of view? Express it in your comments.
Gratitude is one of those emotions that is purely positive. By definition, it almost can’t be turned on its head. For that reason, I celebrate it this spring, just as I celebrate the essential bees who pollinate our food and as I celebrate you without whom my writing would be less meaningful.
Please join our seed giveaway and share something of yourself in the comments.
Disclaimer: Donna and I have purchased the seeds for the seed giveaway for the sole purpose of growing the blog. No compensation was received and no promotion of a particular variety is intended.
Coming up on Life-Change-Compost: making a list of the things you have lost and the things you have found—as you age, struggle with loss, and find some measure of peace in the ruckus of life.
Ruckus on!
Marilyn says
Susie, Thank you for this truly inspiring post. I’m grateful for a multitude of things, and one is this blog. The idea of looking into someone’s future and seeing what they might need is wonderful. We know what the bees’ future looks like; they need help. I would love to attract and encurage more bees, and if you want to send me a packet of seeds I’ll happily plant them, and since there will likely be too many for my smallish space, I’ll share with neighbors. Share and be grateful: my motto for the day, thanks to you. (And if you’ve run out of seeds, tell me what they are and I’ll get some.)
Susan Troccolo says
Thank you Marilyn. A package of seeds is on its way to you! I think you’ll like the mix for your yard and to share if you have too many (the packets are pretty big.) There is borage, sunflower and black-eyed Susans, coriander, dill, coreopsis, zinnia, basil, cosmos, catnip–for your kitties–lots of goodies.
I did have the thought that I may extend the giveaway especially to Donna’s subscribers, because they will be hearing about this a few days *after* this post. So, to all of you coming over from Donna’s site: welcome, there will be plenty of seeds!
Nan says
“How about if I come over and plant a garden for you?” Wow.
Stories about expansive acts like the gardener’s help me push past my (limiting) sense of “seemliness” and act on my own empathic impulses.
Thank you for telling it. May ten thousand bees benefit.
Susan Troccolo says
Nan, I really appreciate what you’ve said. It sure expanded *my* notion of creativity in attempting to walk in somebody’s shoes. I’ll never forget it. Yes, may ten thousand bees benefit! Wonderful. Your seeds will go out on Monday, I found the perfect little envelopes for them today.
Theresa Baisley says
Susie, Arriving home from work on this rainy Saturday evening I was blessed to have 3 yellow finches enjoying happy hour on my thistle feeder. Never have I seen that many in my years of feeding birds. I am “bee”ing grateful for so many things in my life. Thank you for adding one more.
Theresa
Susan Troccolo says
Thank you for visiting Theresa. Goldfinches on thistle are a favorite sight of mine too, especially when there are tall deep blue Delphinium nearby–what a color combo! I hope we have plenty this year, they lift the heart. Watch for some seeds coming your way and thank you again for stopping by.
Susan Troccolo says
Oh Theresa, I almost forgot. Can you please email me at susie@troccolo.com with your address for me to mail you the seeds. Alternatively, I can hold on to them here until we see each other next.
Please let me know, Susie
Marisol says
Susie, I loved what your friend did for you at the beginning of your cancer treatment journey; while your mind and heart at that time were certainly filled with apprehension, fear about the unknown, Susan gave you a future of flowers to see. Powerful symbol to propel one forward into something that one can believe will be manifesting: healing, life energies returning. Then you talk about the bees, which are dying off at an increasing pace, my heart aches at these news as with any other news about animals and environment being affected by human “choices”. Here you are giving an example for something practical to do, packets of seeds we could actually all give to one another as Earth gifts in fact, a symbol of hope for the bees to come, flowers in their future too.
Susan Troccolo says
Ciao Marisol, I’m kind of blown away by your connections. I think you’ve seen more in this story than I even conceived of and I’m so grateful for that. Probably more than most of us, you have large fields around you in Virginia in which to plant these seeds for the bees. When they bloom, will you please send me a picture? I’ll put it up on the site. It should be stunning. “Flowers in their future too….” Wow.
Susan Troccolo says
Welcome to any new readers! Please note that I need to authenticate your comment if this is the first one you have made to this blog. It won’t take long and your comment will show up! If you are visiting to win a package of gorgeous seeds for the bees, please send your snail mail address to: susie@troccolo.com. It will remain private of course.
Amanda says
What a lovely thing to do on many levels. Gardeners are generous by nature and that giving, whether seeds, slips or little bits with roots, connect people and form enduring memories. It’s not only the pleasure of the plant, once established, but the relationship that brought it to your garden and then there’s the bonus of the birds and bees!
Susan Troccolo says
Amanda, what a lovely thing to write. I appreciate your comment very much. I’d be delighted to send you a beautiful seed packet to plant. I’ll write you at your email address and get your snail mail. Alternatively, you can write me at susie@troccolo.com and give it to me. Of course, it will stay private. Thanks again–wonderful comment.
KL says
Thank You for the reminder. I really have to remember everyday to be grateful which I often find I am forgetting with people around me being rude. Your story also brought tears in my eyes. Thanks again.
Susan Troccolo says
Dear KL, Thank you for writing in. Compassion for other people is no easy thing I’ve discovered. I’m glad you liked the story.
Genene Staats says
Just as I was about to send an overdue thank-you to you for the Elephant Revival link, I read your latest blog, about “Beeing Grateful.” I loved hearing how your friend Susan thoughtfully planted flowers for you. What a perfect act of kindness. There is something about blooms that reminds us of life, in general.
When my daughter Angela died in March of 2002, someone gave me a lovely dish garden that had a tiny daffodil stuck into the soil, amidst the typical green plants. After the bright yellow flowers wilted, I pulled out what was left of the plant and poked it into a planter in our front yard. Each March since then, brilliantly-yellow daffodils seem to appear suddenly and more profusely than before. I always look out and say, “Hi Ange!” It reminds me of how thankful I am to have had her in my life, and how grateful I am to have friends to support me in the hard times. (Just thought I’d share that with you!)
Thanks for your terrific blog and for all the memories we made with the “Ladies”!
Susan Troccolo says
I’ve just been reading your note over and over, thinking about times past and how I did not know that you had lost a daughter. I can’t even begin to imagine that loss. The daffodils are coming around for you in abundance, doing their part. They are great naturalizers, their clumps growing in size every year. I hope you were able to share the Elephant Revival link with Leslie–it isn’t often we see a wicked washboard player like that gal. You know, Genene, I think this blog needs a post about our all-girl jug band some day. We were way ahead of our time. Love, Sus
Marisol says
Ciao Susie, the bee lover flowers seed arrived two days ago at my home in VA. So fast. Thank you! I chose a sunny spot already and asked Brian, my master gardener, to plant them for me as Springtime has finally arrived in Northern Virginia. I will send you a picture when the flowers are in bloom. What a great gift.
Shelley says
I agree completely with your advice. When my husband’s grandmother was hospitalized with cancer, I offered to look after her African violets. She had a shelf in her house with fluorescent lights and about 50 beautiful African violets. They were her pride and joy and she was very pleased that I took on the responsibility of looking after them for her. No one in the family had thought about them, not possessing green thumbs at all and being too busy looking after her and everything else.
Susan Troccolo says
Hey Shelley, Isn’t it funny that something so seemingly simple can mean the world to someone who is ill. I think your story says a lot. Sometimes it just takes thinking creatively about who that person is and what they deeply care about. Thanks for sharing this.
Michelle /Ramblingwoods.com says
Thank you for leaving a comment and directing me here..for some reason the post made me cry. There have been so many kindnesses directed my way in the last several months especially with my Mom’s death from cancer and my diagnosis with breast cancer within a month of one another. People offered to cook, clean, shop.. I got cards and tokens and it really made and is still making such a difference as I recover from mastectomy…
This is a lovely idea. I planted an area with the Save-The-Bees packet last May so that I could help bees and then counted bees for Project Sunflower. (The Great Sunflower Project: The Backyard Bee Count). I ordered and received 3 more packets which are going in 2 new small beds in the front yard which my husband will plant. It is beautiful and they do hum with activity. It was one of the real joys for me last season….Michelle
Susan Troccolo says
Hi Michelle, I appreciate your note so much. You are really going through a lot with your own diagnosis so close to the loss of your Mom. I’m so sorry. Grief is such a non-linear a process and so deeply personal, it is clear–at least to me–why you live close to nature and why your blog speaks of healing the earth through its creatures and organic life. It is healing on the deepest levels. After a treatment, I used to go outside and sit in the grass or among the flowers every chance I could. I found something for you–a link–to one of Dana Jenning’s essays for the New York Times. They are from several years ago, but they are powerful. (I saved all of them for myself.) You don’t often read a man who can so adroitly explain his emotional process. Jennings had prostate cancer and he writes about how his sadness hung on for a very long time and why. Here is the link, I hope you get something from it:
http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/29/after-cancer-treatment-waiting-for-the-sadness-to-lift/
I’ll be sending you my best, Susie
RamblingWoods says
Susie..I wanted to let you know that the bloggers who participate in Nature Notes are mostly long-term blog friends of mine and aren’t necessarily gardeners. I didn’t “meet” Donna until last spring and that was my intro to the gardening crowd. As I said, I am a newbie gardener. Looking at Donna’s blog you can find gardening memes that would put you into contact with other gardeners. You would join them as you would mine….Michelle
Susan Troccolo says
Thanks Michelle, I appreciate all the help I can get. I’m finding out there are a lot of various nature blogs I can contribute to. Also, I am a bit of an oddball–a humor writer who tackles a lot of different subjects. If you check out a piece like “The Beet Goes On” from my Food Fight sidebar, you will someone with a quirky take on gardening and certainly a “newbie” too.
Leora says
Hi, Susan. I found you via Michelle who does Nature Notes. I sometimes post about gardening, sometimes about healthy cooking, sometimes about lectures I’ve heard …
I posted years ago about losing my mother to cancer. Truthfully, it’s easier to post pretty flowers.
I saw your post on beets … I love cooking them. I once fermented them. I’ve never grown them, however.
Susan Troccolo says
Welcome Leora, It’s great to get your message. I appreciate hearing about another blogger who posts about different subjects–that is my way too and I know it can be challenging. It IS easier to post pictures of flowers for sure. Yet, I can’t ignore some of the things that have shaped me over the years, like cancer. I don’t like writing about it too much, but I can’t ignore it. Yes, the beet story–a wacky account of my history of failed attempts! Hope you’ll come back and visit again.
Cynthia M. says
Hi again, Susie. After reading your Nature Notes post (and commenting, :)), I scrolled up to the top of your blog and found your category Beyond Cancer. I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer this year, and am fortunate not to have to go through chemo, but am still undergoing radiation and a trial of an anti-cancer drug – Tamoxifin (sp.?). Thank you for sharing your journey with (and beyond) cancer and your blessings.
Cynthia
Susan Troccolo says
Hi Cynthia, I hope you will do well with your treatment, there is a lot of fatigue associated with radiation. I still take Tamoxifen after five years–there is a lot of good data about its value in the prevention of recurrence. Chemo was–for me–a way to tackle any micro-metastasis that might be lurking, I didn’t have an lymph node involvement, so I was lucky. So many of us with this disease, it’s outrageous is what it is. We live in a borderline toxic world. I plan to write more about my cancer journey, some of it is funny, some sad. You may want to subscribe so you get email notice of any updates. Susie