S.O.S.

The last few months have brought new life, love and loss to our family.  Kim's bff from high school shared this poem at our wedding and we would like to share it here with you now.  If you know us, you see us.  If you'd like to know us or have a story of your own to heal, reach out.  Our cup runneth over.

The Garden

He treats you like dirt.
That's the fear, isn't it?
That when the warmth of this day has faded
you will fall away with ever-growing mounds of debris around you.

You've both been here before
The hope, the joy, the anticipation
of a life of tenderness and growth together
gave way to cold, dusty distance;  stones in the heart.

Kim, a desert flower
conditioned by the sun's scorch and harsh seasons of parched land: 
the Spring of growth,
the Summer of bloom
The Fall of thirst,
the Winter of release, nature’s cycle of tumbleweed.  
This traveler hitched a ride to the Granite State
and sowed new seed in Claremont where the soil is rich and rain plentiful.  

This one, this Rick, treats you like dirt; the soil that he loves.
Watch him prepare the foundation for your marriage in the way he knows best: 
waiting first for the right season (which cannot be rushed),
catching the warmth of the sun on the ground,
analyzing the chemical signature of what makes your relationship flourish,
adding nutrients, pops of energy, mulch for sustainability,
preparing the foundation for the growth of your union. 

Today you have planted a new life together
into the earth rich in hope, love and community. 
Scatter stories of your travels,
pot lavender roses, peonies and bottlebrush in this pumpkin-spiced oasis.
Bloom color like the desert after a storm,
sow resilience into this garden of plenty.  

Thank God, my friend, that he treats you like dirt. 

JR - 15 October 2022

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