Of Hope and Tomato Plants

Lucinda soldiered on throughout the summer of 2020. By this time she was too big to move and I didn’t want to upset her, so left her in her spot by the door where she continued to flourish. By this time I was back at work, struggling with long hours behind a mask; the changes to our work day which added to our workload and patrons who were frightened, needy, belligerent, and in a few rare cases flaunting the masking rules. Isolated in our rural world, our realities were different from the devastation experienced across the globe. We continued working while the world around us went in and out of lockdown, and the pandemic raged on. By contrast our emotional traumas were relative. Forget the comfort of family and cats, the thing that kept me going throughout was coming home to my tomato plant. Would there be more blossoms? More fruit? More leaves? I would feast my eyes on this luscious green oasis and feel peace and calm wash over me.  In a strange way her continued efforts gave me hope in these weird times. Hope that soon our lives will grow and flower and bear fruit again. While it may be quirky to find comfort and hope in a burgeoning tomato plant, these days, you need to find it where you can.

Lucinda died when a rogue, commercially propagated strawberry plant was given shelter from the winter winds. Unknown to me, I also gave shelter to its mites which, spying Lucinda’s luscious greenery, packed their bags and migrated. I fought a losing battle to get rid of them but one by one Lucinda curled up her leaves until all that remained were some spindly stalks and one jewel of a tomato. She had lasted 18 months a goodly age for a tomato plant. I’ll be planting her seeds as soon as the soil is warm in the hopes that Lucinda will rise again; a fitting tribute to a faithful tomato plant that saw me through some very tough times.

Clo Carey – March 2021

South Shore Scribes @www.emilybowers.ca/ https://wordsbywhittall.blogspot.com/ @passionate_perspective @https://www.facebook.com/groups/1470587219691626 #WritersInk #PandemicSurvival #Hope