Unexpected Berries

“Bloom Where You’re Planted”

We’ve all heard that saying right?

But what do you do when you want to be planted somewhere else?

When you’re in a garden you didn’t ask to be planted in?

How do you make your heart stop aching for something old?

Or when you’re desperate for something new and different?

When you’re caught between two worlds that live side by side in your heart, but are oceans apart in reality?

Back and forth I go, swinging between my two worlds praying the dizziness will one day subside, hoping to step out of this constant state of transition. I find myself somewhere between being completely content and then yearning to escape…between letting my roots grow deeper and then wanting my garden on the other side of the world.

Will I always feel unsettled? Restless? Longing for what’s not in front of me? For something different?

For me the answer isn’t a simple yes or no…it’s a day-to-day process and the dizziness can strike at anytime, without warning.

When I’m in Sicily, I crave long trips to Target, cheeseburgers and real Mexican food. I want huge cups of coffee, oversized American breakfast and Starbucks iced tea. I long for reality TV, the comfort of my own home and snow days.

When I’m in Connecticut my heart aches for all things Sicilian. I want to wander the streets of Ortigia with my friends, have endless glasses of wine and watch the sunset at the marina. I long for lazy days at the beach and late romantic nights. I crave espresso, granita for breakfast, pasta with fresh clams and horse meat paninis.

My poor mother was on the receiving end of a major meltdown I had the other day. I felt like everything around me was either dying or just not blooming at all. The garden of my life here in CT felt like a dead disaster with absolutely no beauty in it. I felt stuck and suffocated in something I didn’t ask for. What happened to my garden? To the seeds I planted so long ago? Where were my beautiful flowers? I felt hopeless and isolated, disappointed and forgotten. There was no life for me here.

My meltdown lasted about 10 minutes…ok maybe 30…then I dried my tears and walked back to my house determined to just ignore the despair that had settled over my heart.

During my epic meltdown, the snow had started to fall. I settled in for the day and decided to enjoy the quietness that came with a New England snow day. I lit my candles, put my Christmas tree on, made chicken soup, wrapped presents and watched every Christmas movie I could find.

After a few hours of steady falling snow, I went outside for one of my weird snow day rituals. I like to stand on my front steps with one of my Christmas mugs full of hot tea or coffee and look at my front yard garden as it’s being covered in snow. I have some winter shrubs that stay a deep, beautiful green all year long…two mini Christmas trees and two Holly Berry bushes. I love the look of my Holly Berry bushes, but for the last two years they have struggled to produce life…only two tiny, barely there berries on the bottom of one of the bushes. Even they were hopeless.

Standing outside watching the snowfall usually fills me with a sense of calmness, but that afternoon I felt such a sadness at the absence of my roses, lavender and dahlias. The lack of life and color only seemed to confirm what I was feeling. The whites, pinks and purples were all gone and I longed for the garden of my summer. This winter garden looked bare and dead. The white snow closed in on everything like a coffin. There was no life for me here.

I was about to go inside but decided to take a closer look at my Holly Berry bushes. As lifeless as the front yard looked, the snow made the leaves look so festive and idyllic. I leaned over the railing and out of nowhere there they were…bright red berries on both of the bushes! About 15 new berries were on the bush closest to me and a few more scattered on the bottom of the second one. How did I not notice them before? When did they grow? They seemed to come out of nowhere. And how come I never realized how stunning the color red can be? The bright white snow intensified the color of the berries and made me see their beauty for the first time. The simplicity was absolutely stunning and beautiful.

I breathed in the cold snowy air…smiled up at God and said “ok I get it!”

I’m not stuck in a lifeless winter garden. I had berries right in front of me and hadn’t even noticed them until today. There was life for me here.

It got me thinking…what else am I not seeing? My meltdown had me focused on everything I didn’t have and I was about to miss the life that comes with a winter garden.

It may not be full of roses and lavender right now, but my garden was beginning to bloom a whole new type of beauty I wasn’t expecting. And just like my garden, my life here was waiting for me to see and appreciate its beauty… I have cozy winter nights, snow days and huge cups of American coffee. I may not have my “Sicily Crew” by my side but I have family and life long friends who give me deep, strong roots and immeasurable love and support. I have the comfort of my own home and an amazing job and work family. I have the convenience of Target and any kind of ethnic food at my fingertips. I have kiwi spoon dates every Tuesday with my nephew and getting my nails done with my niece. I have Sundays with my family, sitting by the fire and watching football. I have a car to drive and roads where everyone follows the rules. It may not be the garden of my dreams, but I do have a life here…and I’m not finished with this garden just yet.

As I came back inside and settled in once again, I looked around my house and noticed how much of Sicily was all around me. I have pictures of my family and my beloved Ortigia and Ognina in every room. I have the “fichi d’india” room freshener in my office, a birthday gift from my cousins Egizia and Francesca. In my bedroom, I have the heart-shaped rock and shells I found that one special day at Pillirina beach.

But my favorite possession from Sicily is the chest in my living room. It was used by my father’s family when they came over on the boat from Sicily in 1955. It still has the faded stickers from the ports in Italy and New York. It now sits empty in my living room as my side table. I have a pretty white lamp on it, my Ortigia coffee table book and a mini globe. A few weeks ago I decorated my house for Christmas and put a garland on top of the chest. The deep green garland has lights on it, mini pine cones and yes, bright red berries all over it. (Ok so the berries are fake but you get the point.)

And just like that, the dizziness subsided and my two gardens didn’t seem so far apart anymore. I felt them coming together and settling in nicely side by side.

It’s not always easy but I’m learning to live with the beautiful heartache of having my heart split in two. I hold my heavy heart with careful hands and embrace the longing for my other life. I welcome the restlessness and use it to push me forwards to find the balance and calmness I know are hiding in my heart.

Whether full of roses and lavender or evergreen and berries, I now know my gardens are unique and lovely and I will try to enjoy the season I’m in.

So how do I end this story?

Simple…there is no end.

The magic of a garden is that it’s always growing and changing if we are willing to do the work. We can plant them in different places and design them any way we want…big or small, chaotic colors or simple and clean. Each year will bring new challenges, new growth, unwanted weeds and the possibility of planting something new.

But the best part of a garden is that it allows you the chance to see something bloom that you thought was hopeless…

Be on the lookout for the unexpected berries that await you this season.

God says “and in the same way that earlier I relentlessly pulled up and tore down, took apart and demolished, so now I am sticking with them as they start over, building and planting” Jeremiah 31:28

Written December 2017