The wall of windows in the waiting room for radiation patients overlooks a small garden. The edge of the garden is bordered with redwood trees, giving seclusion from the street. The small private garden is planted with sword ferns and a petite Japanese maple. It is absolutely lovely, standing about five feet tall and close to the window, with beautiful five-pointed leaves.
While some patients wait their turn to be called by the radiation techs, they read or watch the TV. I like to sit on the small upholstered bench closest to the window where just outside is the tree. My whole first week I sat in the same spot, next to the tree.
I wait in my hospital gown, a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders, and look out. The lacy leaves in burnt orange and blood red are like a wild explosion against the beige and neutral decor of the waiting room. The tree waits with me, keeps me company and makes me feel peaceful and content.
Today I changed my clothes, got my warm blanket and took my seat. Hello Tree.
Poor baby! What happened to you?
I wanted to run outside and wrap her in my blanket.
Every single leaf was scattered on the ground and wet with rain, like a beautiful soaked carpet. With just its branches exposed, Tree looked cold and stark and sad, compared to all her previous autumn glory just last Friday.
I know this feeling.
Tree whispered to me today, reminding me this is a season in my life. Be patient. Winter will end, and Spring will come again.
and we will bloom.
1 comment:
Yes, spring will come!
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