Sowing Seeds, Growing Hope While Healing!

In the midst of grief and loss, I discovered something unexpected: the healing power of a garden.

Writing Goals, Planting Dreams

Every January, I sit down to write my goals for the year. These goals often include professional aspirations: How much I want to grow personally and financially, the people I hope to meet, and the experiences I want to have. Over the years, I’ve realized that skipping this practice makes my year feel less impactful. There’s something powerful about putting pen to paper and clarifying what truly matters.

This year, however, something unexpected happened. Out of all the goals I could write down, only two stood out: health and my garden.

Finding Solace in the Soil

New beginnings often start small, like a single seed.

My journey with gardening began in 2020 during one of the hardest times of my life—a period many others experienced as well. My brother-in-law passed away from COVID-19, and just months later, in October, my sister—his wife—also passed. The grief was overwhelming, compounded by the isolation of the pandemic. We couldn’t gather as a family to mourn, and the lack of shared moments for comfort left a void that felt impossible to fill.

At that time, we had just moved into a new home, and our backyard was in disarray. Looking at the mess, it felt insignificant compared to the overwhelming pain we were experiencing. However, in an effort to cope, I began to clean and work on the yard as if my life depended on it; nothing else seemed to make sense.

At first, gardening was merely a way to occupy my hands and mind—a small act of creation in the midst of overwhelming loss. However, as time passed, my garden evolved into my sanctuary and escape. The earthy scent of the soil, the warmth of the sun on my back, and the sight of tiny green sprouts breaking through the ground became soothing comforts for my spirit.

Planting a tiny seed in the dead of winter and watching it grow into a strong tomato plant felt miraculous. Over time, the cycles of life in the garden—birth, growth, death, and renewal—began to mirror my own journey through grief.

As the seasons changed and time passed, I began to feel a sense of peace. The deep emptiness in my stomach started to diminish as plants grew, flowered, and eventually died. So, when my tomato plants wilted and faded away, it didn’t feel like an ending; instead, it felt like a promise—a sign that a new season was on the horizon.

Once again, tragedy struck our family. In 2022, my nephew— passed away at the age of 31. This loss created a gaping hole in my heart, and the profound grief I experienced left me feeling numb.

Instead of giving in to despair, I poured all my grief, anger, and sadness into gardening. My garden became my refuge—the one place where I felt completely safe, away from questions I had no answers to. It was the only space where I could cry until I had no tears left, without having to explain myself.

Surrounded by blooming flowers and the fresh scent of soil, I could easily lose myself for hours in peaceful silence. During the winter, I sow seeds, and watching these tiny miracles grow is truly healing. However, when spring arrives, I feel an even stronger urge to do more. My plants provide me with so much, even though they don’t ask for anything in return. As a result, I decided to embark on a new project: cleaning and improving our backyard garden.

Every Spring is a new beginning…

A Living Tribute!

With each bloom, my garden has taught me to transform sorrow into joy, loss into memories, and pain into growth. I realized that, much like the seeds I planted, my loved ones continue to live on in my heart and in the hearts of those who cherished them. This understanding has turned my deep grief into hope and acceptance.

As a result, I decided to garden more. Gardening becomes a part of you; once you start, you can’t stop. So, I expanded my front yard garden, choosing to grow roses, which were my dad’s favorite flowers. He passed away when I was seven, and I wanted to honor the memories of the loved ones I’ve lost.

I planted a pale orange rose bush, which was also my sister’s favorite color. This small plant grew into a beautiful and majestic specimen. I added Salvia as a companion plant, reflecting the idea that, like people, plants can thrive together through mutual support. Every time I see this stunning rose, I am reminded of my sister and the vibrant memories we shared. After my mom passed away too at nearly 92 years old, I planted a Julia’s Child rose in her honor, symbolizing her beautiful, full life.

For my nephew, I planted a white rose. From the depths of my pain, these plants brought me comfort and joy.

My garden has become more than just a collection of plants; it is a space where my loved ones feel alive and close, serving as a living tribute to those I hold in my heart.

My garden has brought me joy and blessed me with abundant rewards. I had no idea that when I began cleaning up that messy little piece of land, it would fill my life with so much love. Gardening is not just about growing plants; it is about planting love, growing hope, healing, and restoring. It has been one of the greatest discoveries of my life.

Leaving My Garden Behind:

When I sold my house in Nyack, saying goodbye to the garden was harder than leaving the home itself. My neighbors asked if I would take some of the plants with me, but I knew I couldn’t. Uprooting them felt selfish—they belonged to the soil that had nurtured them.

Despite the difficulty of leaving it behind, my garden taught me an important lesson: growth begins again, no matter the soil. That realization gave me strength as I transitioned to a new home.

A fresh Start in North Carolina!

We moved to Wake Forest, North Carolina, on my birthday, July 22. My only wish during our house search was to have a bit more land for gardening. Be careful with what you wish for; you just might get it. I now have nearly half an acre—a blessing that feels both exciting and overwhelming. Starting a new garden from scratch seems like a huge task, but I’m grateful to have met people who are eager to help me.

One of those people is Don Carlos, an expert I met at a speaking engagement. Tomorrow, he’s coming to help me prepare the soil for my new garden, and I couldn’t be more grateful or excited.

This new garden is more than just a project; it’s a symbol of healing, growth, and gratitude. It serves as a reminder of the journey I have been on and the loved ones I carry with me. As I embark on this process again, it feels different this time. Grief may come and go, but now there is more hope, along with a new understanding and appreciation for life. I feel blessed to create another safe beautiful and happy space—a sanctuary that connects me to the earth, to my loved ones, and to my spirit.

I have a blank canvas, and I couldn’t be happier. Let’s see what we can create next!

Planting Hope, One Seed at a Time

If you’ve ever thought about starting a garden, I encourage you to take that step. It doesn’t have to be big—a pot of herbs, a single rose bush, or a patch of wildflowers is enough.

Gardening has taught me so much about resilience, hope, and renewal. For me, it’s more than a hobby—it’s a lifeline, a way to celebrate life and honor the past.

A garden isn’t just about plants; it’s about life—its cycles, its beauty, and its resilience. Whether you’re a seasoned gardener or just starting with a single pot, I encourage you to plant something this year. A seed can grow into more than a plant—it can grow into healing and hope.

Have you ever planted something that brought you unexpected joy or healing? Share your story with me—I’d love to hear it.