(If you want to hear Lori read the story click)here

 

I had a friend named Carol who was a committed gardener. Vegetables flourished under her touch and flowers bordered her yard. One day we were eating with our kids at the park, chatting while they played out of hearing but not out of sight. She finished a banana and slipped the peel into her bag. 

 

"Why don't you just throw it away?" I asked in my ignorance. 

 

"I save all my compost," she laughed. 

 

To me, an empty peel was trash to be tossed at the first receptacle. But to Carol it was food for tomatoes that she had not even planted yet. Compost takes months to ripen. She was banking on the assurance that she would still be gardening a year from now.

 

The other day a woman blew me off. I was talking about something precious to me and she hijacked the conversation and went in her own direction. I was bruised, feeling as if I had held out my throbbing heart and she carelessly pushed it aside. But I used it for compost. I resolved to work harder not to do that to anyone else. I now knew more vividly what dismissal looked like.

 

Marriage is a do-si-do of infractions. If my partner forgets to clear his things from the dining room table I can tuck the memory in my pocket for when my sewing project is sprawled all over the floor. If I feel jilted that he does not ask about my day I can use the sting to motivate me to ask about his. 

 

It is a blessing really, to bump up against someone who can help me learn from my mistakes. Because I plan on being in this marriage 100 years from now.