Fruit of the Vine

 My new doctors office is located diagonally across from the last place I had lunch with my mother and the last place I had lunch with my father. Not so long ago. Yet, so very far away.

It is at this tender intersection where the young technician gave me simple instructions on how to breathe.

She asked me to inhale naturally and then exhale fully.

My mind flashed to the garden center cafe as I took a breath in. I remembered my mother in the car, not fully aware of where we were going or why. I remembered the Vine we bought that would bloom in the Spring.

I gasped for breath. The technician said we’d try again.

I took in as much breath as I could and again was transported.  To the lack of rain, to the barren soil, to the desert terrain. To my fear that the Vine would not thrive. Could I keep it alive? Without Sun, without Rain?

“Exhale!”, I heard the technician plead, as I tried to get back to my body now trying to breathe.

We tried it again. I took a breath in. And I landed dead square in the fair, soft light of my father’s blue eyes. My steady Sunrise. My Ever Blue Skies.

I tried hard to exhale. I tried hard to release the shared air of the space in between us. I choked in response. I could not let go.

The technician was concerned. She referred me to the Doctor. 

Driving home I leaned in to the whispering winds of my inner Physician. There was fresh air in there. And much needed reflection. For my resuscitation and guided direction.

I thought I had made it past this point. This zero point of me on my knees. Unable to breathe. I thought I had managed to navigate through these fierce waves of deep grief and release. 

But I had forgotten.

I was never meant to cling to the Vine. 

For I am made of the Vine. 

And the landscapes of grief do not end.

I must meet them as friends.

They are Fruit of the Vine.

And with Sunlight and Time they will teach me to thrive where I stand. My deep heart in the palm of my hands. Sowing life giving seed into new shoots of me, that will breathe forth a new promised land. 

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