This is the first of a series of spontaneous essays, poems and teachings I am making while driving.
This one, "Gloves Off" is a poem about my mother and gardening.
Today, on Mother's Day, when I couldn't seem to find my way through a muck of sadness about not having a mom anymore, I struck out to the garden to move irises and weed.
Only half way through did I realize what I'd done - gone to the one place she loved to be:
gardening.
Gloves off by Miriam Hall
Miriam, it is so good to hear your voice, your words, your work. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you for this lovely, surprising, wonderful gift.
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