THIS SPRING I LOST MY HEARING

Here my husband David, who had taken over the tending of the garden, trims the irises.

This spring I lost my hearing..... yep it happened to me. Having generally felt myself to be an ardent visual  form of serenity sailing around the garden beds, my good ear just decided to cave-in. As glorious spring twirls into summer, my hearing is gone. I literally mean spin, as my dizziness from the damaged inner ear upends me. Idiopathic hearing loss and vestibular dysfunction. I have to walk very slowly on the uneven ground of my garden observing the perspectives that are so astonishing with muted sounds around. I feel the impressions of Edna St Vincent Millay in the garden from some vintage photograph ingrained in my psyche and think of Beethoven who lost his hearing at 27. I believe however that will not be my fate as in this technological era we have options to be explored. Fingers crossed.

We had our house painted this gorgeous radicchio late last summer so this was the first spring to see all the plants shimmering against this backdrop. Here 'Summer Wine' begins it's profuse display.

What would I do without my garden? It gives me the luxury of seeing my partnership with Creation, the opening of spring and Divine generosity. Indeed, we are mere mortals, fragile and vulnerable as has been said. This is known even more now to me here in my 75th year. There’s the agony of what has occurred, but texts, emails, gracious friends, and gratitude in the background, because there are endless things to be grateful for, despite the present circumstances. Five amazing grandchildren and a life built on passions, mistakes, and realizations. Here on this blissfully, cool cloudy day, I feel like a little bird whose wings have been clipped, but who can still sing sweetly, and feel the wind as it flutters over and around me. I ask the same question as many who are struck down in someway, how could this happen to me? Well, it has and what meaning it will have is yet to be determined.

A David Austin Rose, 'Roald Dahl', on the deck.

 I know it may sound odd but at times I have a true resurgence of joy. Perhaps I know how much worse things can get for myself and others. I can walk, talk, and have been assured all is in Divine Order even tho it may not be easily visible. I look at my body I am still here.

This is 'Souvenir du Dr. Jamain', a gorgeous deep wine heritage rose near the deck.

Weeks have now passed. Although I have some small hearing in my right ear where I had my original surgery and I can communicate through my mobile phone’s amazing amplification, I have my down, worried and fearful days where my positive attitude fails me. My plans for my new website, LBGoodmanPhotography.com are on hold. I was ready to jump into marketing portrait shoots and photos for home and commercial offices. I will surely get to it at some point.  Do take a look if you can and accept the offering I’m making of photos from my beloved garden that is helping to sustain me this Spring.

Verbascum in the foreground. We have 37 roses in our garden. You can see heritage 'Ardoisee de Lyon' and some poppies here.

One so realizes how good they’ve had things, and how easy it was not to appreciate it. May you stay healthy and whole and appreciate all the more what you have. Life is rich, wonderful and fleeting.

Our tri-color beech shades our deck most handsomely.