There are friends, and then there are FRIENDS. All the pumpkins on porches lately remind me of a certain friend and her efforts to show me love during the sunless days of 2012, when my life resembled the scrambled mess inside a pumpkin.
It was a beautiful spring, but I couldn't see it. One day she came over with hoes and shovels and attacked an ugly, ignored corner of my back yard. Then she brought in top soil and seeds and planted a pumpkin patch.
"Pumpkins make people happy, Wildflower," she said. "When you look out your kitchen window, you will see pumpkins, and it's going to make you happy."
That was a year and a half ago, and although the patch produced only four small, unimpressive pumpkins that rotted within weeks on my front step, in my mind's eye, I can still see my friend, hacking away at the dirt and weeds, so I could have something to nurture and to anticipate.
Hey, you friends, you make a difference to me! Thoughtful service, including patient listening, is super glue for friendships, and like it or not, you friends that are sticking by me through this have cemented yourselves to me. I consider you all among the richest blessings of my life.
Thank you to my pumpkin-planting friend, and ALL OF YOU. I know my burdens are mine and yours are yours, but thank you for not running from me and my soggy, pumpkiny life.
If we lived near each other, I would invite y'all over to eat pumpkin bars and carve pumpkins. My friend was right, pumpkins do make people happy.
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