When we planted those tulip bulbs together last fall – yes, together – we knew only one of us would live in this house when they bloomed in the spring. As I dug holes and dropped them in the ground, my tears fell with them. You saw, you stopped what you were doing, and you joined me.
We talked and planted: bulbs and a new relationship. And I knew then, and maybe you did too, that we would be okay.
We have a routine and a friendship our friends don’t quite understand, though they heartily endorse it.
Our daughter has declared herself “well-adjusted” and seems to actually enjoy having two houses.
Cat House is mine, where I try in vain to break the four-year-old feline of her reluctancy to use the litter box. Dog House is yours, where your four-month-old puppy inspires “How to get rid of a dog” searches on Google.
Many weeks, it seems our pets are our biggest problems.
It’ll be summer soon. I, a gardener, await the lilies. You, a teacher, anticipate graduation.
The seasons change, the colors change, we change. And some plants multiply on their own, you know, with or without us. Others are better off when we are there to help them along.
We learn the difference.