Right. So, the first green shoots have come up. Some foxgloves, a few stubborn little shamrocks. The soil’s not perfect for them, not by a long shot, but I’m trying. They’ll either make it or they won’t. That’s how it goes.
I kneel down, press my hands into the dirt. Still damp from yesterday’s rain. That’s good. Means I won’t have to water again just yet. Every time I do this, I hear Bryan’s voice in my head. “Just plant what’s meant to grow here, love.” I roll my eyes at him, wherever he is now. “I know that. But what’s the fun in easy?”
He would have laughed at this little experiment of mine. Irish plants, in Spanish soil. He always said I was a bit daft when I got an idea in my head. Maybe he was right. Probably was. But here I am anyway, coaxing along my little patch of misplaced green, willing it to survive.
It’s weird, the things you cling to after someone’s gone. You don’t think it’ll be the little rituals, the habits you barely noticed at the time. But it is. For us, it was the garden. Not big romantic gestures, not grand holidays—just us, side by side in the dirt, bickering over plant placement and soil types. Him digging the holes, me moving things around after he’d planted them.
And now it’s just me.
Some days, I get lost in it. Just sitting here, watching, waiting for some sign of life. Other days, it frustrates the hell out of me. The heather’s struggling. I thought it might. It’s curling in on itself, leaves browning at the edges. The foxglove, though, seems to like it here. Stubborn thing.
I get that.
I’m still figuring it out myself. Some days, I wake up and think—yeah, this is home now. Other days, I could pack a bag and be gone by sunset. It’s a pull I can’t explain. Maybe I don’t need to. Maybe it’s just part of learning how to be in a place that isn’t quite yours yet.
The garden helps. Gives me something to do, something to focus on that isn’t just… loss. Because, Christ, that’s a hole you can disappear into if you’re not careful.
The shamrocks are trying. Not thriving, but not dead either. I’ll take that.
Maybe that’s the best I can do too.