fall blooms

I've been having a hard time of it lately. I still have no job, and all the open doors seem to be coming to naught. I have no leads on anything substantial, and I'm searching job postings daily for something that feels like it could be a fit. So far, nothing, except fear and anxiety.

Add to that the death of a friend last week.

And more, my dad's cancer is back. The news at this point is "not good" and I think the diagnosis we're waiting on may be an expected time frame.

The depression that I held at bay all summer long is creeping back in. No, not creeping. Stomping its feet and roaring.

A couple of days ago, I noticed that one of my spider lilies is about to bloom. I replanted these bulbs years ago, and I think they've only bloomed once since then. I know they didn't bloom last year, so this summer I was extra careful to water that spot, hoping to revive the sleeping bulbs. The flowers typically bloom in late summer, so I knew I would have to wait until September to see the results of my labor.

I began to grow disheartened when, driving around town, I saw spider lilies thriving in other yards. Dozens of deep red blooms, beautiful. I was a little envious, and I was bummed.

But then, there it was. My one little bloom. It wasn't quite what I'd hoped for, but at least I knew the bulbs were still alive.

Today, while taking out the recycling, I checked on that lone flower. It's coming along pretty well, and that made me smile. But then, as I poked around, I noticed another shoot pushing its way through the dirt. Then another, then another. There are a total of about 4 or 5 flowers where last year there was nothing. The bed was quite dry, so in order to encourage their progress, I watered the ground again thoroughly, soaking it.

Hope, like flowers, needs to be watered and tended.

And so today I have watered my hope with tears and prayers and songs and words. I will be back on the phone, calling more university presses to see if they hire freelance copyeditors. That is today, and all I can do is what needs to be done today.

And maybe, just maybe, something beautiful will spring from this dry ground.