The floatiness came upon me when I woke up this morning, and it would not leave. It stayed like an unwanted guest. All day I felt like I was walking in swaths of cotton. I texted my friend Jack, and he had an idea, or at least I thought he had an idea:

Jack: Come over and weed my garden. It’s therapeutic 🙂

Me: Ok. I’ll come over after dinner around 7.

Jack: Seriously? I was kidding, but you’re welcome to weed if you like.

I had not weeded a garden for decades. My grandmother’s garden was the last garden I ever worked in, and “worked in” is putting it loosely. I puttered in there, and she worked.

As soon as I arrived, I dove right into pulling those damn weeds. The earth in my fingernails felt real and grounding. I pulled those weeds, and after a while, I was pulling my mother’s hate, her wrath, self-loathing, and rage. I pulled as if I was pulling those demons out. I would still be out there pulling, but night fell, mosquitoes came, and my body hurt. I think I have dirt in my teeth, but the floatiness is gone.

(Photo credit: Auntie P)