Letting Go

There are those who embrace change.  They live for something different, the excitement of things fresh and new.  I am not one of those.  Now, I will "tweak" things to the point of madness; deciding on a more convenient place in the kitchen cabinet for the spices, or a more logical location for the trashcan, but as a whole I prefer the familiar, the comfortable, the things to which I have become accustomed. 

I quickly become attached to things, especially those things with any sentimental value.  For instance, I can't bring myself to throw away a handful of pebbles that I keep in a cup in our living room.


These pebbles began to accumulate just over nine years ago when our oldest grandson, Rhyan, would stay with us every afternoon after daycare.  Pop, as my husband Richard is called by our grandchildren, would walk down the street to Rhyan's daycare, pick him up each afternoon at 4:00, and bring him to our house until my daughter, Stephanie, would return from work to collect her son.  Much like his mother had done at his age, Rhyan would barely get in the door before he would take off his shoes.  And his shoes almost always contained at least one or two little pieces of pea gravel from the playground at daycare.  Upon removal of the shoes, Pop would empty their contents into a copper cup which sat upon our living room coffee table.  As the tiny pebbles began to accumulate, Rhyan enjoyed pouring them on the coffee table, inspecting them one by one, then returning them to their cup.  Because of those sweet memories I am attached to those little rocks and therefore cannot bring myself to discard them.


If I can become so attached to a handful of little rocks, you might imagine my attachment to larger things.  Things that long ago belonged to family members, especially grandparents, have a particularly special place in my heart.  But I also can become attached to things in which I have poured hours of work... things that I have created, adapted, transformed and "tweaked" over a period of time... things like our water garden.

I fell in love with water features at an early age.  Occasionally I would go with my grandmother to Bob's Beauty Salon where she had her hair done each week.  While Margaret worked her magic on Grandmother's hair, I would sit near the rows of hairdryer-chairs and gaze out the big picture window at the concrete goldfish pond located by the back entrance of the salon.  Those goldfish fascinated me as they swam around in their square, concrete, water-filled home with the fountain in the center.  As the ladies sat shoulder to shoulder, reading their "Good Housekeeping" and "Better Homes and Gardens", heads topped with multi-colored plastic curlers and shoved up inside domes blasting out blistering, hot air, I watched the fish and studied the pond.  One day I would have a pond of my very own.  And indeed, one day I did.

Our pond took on numerous shapes and sizes.  We started small, mostly because I was so unsure of what I was doing.  I just knew that I wanted water, something that resembled a waterfall, and fish.  I have no photos of the first stage or two.  First of all, I hadn't really discovered the joys of photography at that point.  Secondly, and more importantly, those first stages probably weren't very worthy of being photographed.

As I worked digging and laying out liners and hauling tons of rock (and I literally mean tons), I learned about water levels and evaporation and circulation and beneficial bacteria and aquatic plants.  I learned to enjoy the process of creating almost as much as the finished product.  I learned perseverance and patience.  I learned that when you wade into the water and your toenails are painted, the fish will nibble at your toes.  I learned that frogs return to the same pond year after year to mate, and that their mating calls can be deafening and can continue through most of the night.

 I learned that a green-tinted, decorative filter over an underwater light does not make the water look attractive; and I learned that decorative, colored filters are very difficult to remove once they are in place.  I learned that grandchildren are drawn to water like moths to a flame, and that they can spend hours feeding the fish and tossing pebbles in the water, regardless of the weather.  I learned the relaxation that comes from the calming, soft sounds of moving water.  And I learned of one more thing to which I had become sentimentally attached.

I was as captivated by the aquatic plants as I was by the water garden itself.  I discovered the bog plants that grew either in constantly wet soil or in shallow water, such as the Corkscrew Grass and the Black Taro and the Rainlily.  Then there were the plants that are so famously associated with water gardens, the Water Lilies and the Water Lotus.

The plants and the fish worked together in perfect harmony.  The fish fed on any overgrowth of algae to keep the pond clear, and their waste provided the nutrients that the ornamental aquatic plants needed to grow and thrive.

The water garden never required weeding.  When the plants became too numerous, I simply waded into the water, dug down to the rhizome-like root system, divided the roots and had new plants to give to my water-gardening friends.  And obviously, my aquatic plants never had to be watered, as long as the pond's water level remained constant.

As far as the aquatic plants were concerned, the care was minimal.  The fish had all they food they needed from the natural growth of algae and other aquatic oddities.  We did, however, give them fish food or Cheerios on occasion, because we enjoyed the fact that they would gather at the same spot every time they were beckoned by the tapping of our foot on a big, flat rock placed at the water's edge.

 

But don't be deceived; water gardens are work.  There are skimmers to be emptied of leaves.  There are filters to be washed.  There is beneficial bacteria to establish.  There is a balance to be reached between plants and fish.  There are water levels to maintain.  There is a pH balance to achieve.  There is string algae to battle.  And there is the fact that some components of a water garden won't last forever... man-made components such as liners and pumps.  You see, it wasn't the things in the water garden, the things that made it so beautiful, that required much care and maintenance.  It was the mechanical components, the electrical, the plumbing, the man-made things that attempted to replicate what seems to be so easily accomplished in nature.

One of the things a water gardener dreads the most is a leak.  Attempting to find a leak in a 1,000 gallon pond is like searching for a needle in a haystack.  I discovered this for myself last year.  Finally, after removing the fish, draining the pond, and removing almost all of the rock and gravel inside the pond, I discovered that the "leak" in my liner was more than a small pinhole to be patched.  It was ten-inch long section in a fold in the liner that had simply worn through over the years.  The liner would have to be replaced.  This was a process that seemed to take most of the spring.  This also was an opportunity to "tweak" the way the water spilled from the falls into the pond.  And when it was completed, it was better than it had ever been before.

Richard and I were thrilled with the results.  The flow of the water over the upper part of the pond was prettier than it had ever been.  The sound of the water was better.  As we had put the entire pond back together, we had reduced the number of water lilies, allowing us a better and more unobstructed view of the main part of the pond.  We had even added more fish to the pond, and it was teeming with life.  Gold and white large goldfish darted about, occasionally performing acrobatic jumps.  The older and larger koi slowly moved about as if amused by the foolish over-exertion of the young and inexperienced newcomers.  I battled to draw myself away from my vantage point at the kitchen window where I watched the show and enjoyed the beauty.

The water garden and the fish had become a part of our family.  It was as if I had given birth to them, and had nurtured them and tended to them as they had grown.  And when it came time to face the fact that I was going to have to let them go, it was a difficult fact to face.

This summer, in the midst of record heat and drought, the pump in the water garden went out.  For weeks we attempted to repair it.  The pump had just been installed last summer, and should have lasted at least three or four more years, but a misguided fish found its way past the skimmer net and into the pump intake.  Over the weeks as we tried in vain to keep the water oxygenated and cooled with smaller pumps, our fish began to succumb to the heat.  With only a handful of our fish remaining, Richard and I had the discussion I had dreaded.  Should we buy yet another pump (another very expensive pump), or should we cut our losses and decide this is the time to fill in the pond?


As I mentioned earlier, water gardens require a significant amount of work - regardless of what any well-intentioned water garden supply salesperson may tell you.  Over the past couple of years, we had discovered that the amount of work required was becoming more than we could do physically.  This was another facet of the decision that was difficult for me.  I had to face the fact that I am getting older and my physical abilities are becoming more limited.  In our hearts, both of us knew the decision that had to be made, but we still struggled with it.


The remaining fish will be adopted by a family that can provide a wonderful home for them.  The rocks and remaining pond components may be given to a friend who has longed for his own water feature.  The gaping hole that will be left in our back yard will be filled with topsoil and other plants will be installed there.  But it will be quite a long time before I walk through the kitchen, or enter onto the back porch, and don't pause to listen to the lilting song of the water as it tumbles over the falls and into the pond.

There have been countless times in my life when I have been blessed with people and things that have brought me tremendous pleasure and joy.  Some of those people have left this life for another far better.  Many of those things have been given over to decay or have simply been lost.  A few will remain to be passed down to children and grandchildren.  But no one, and nothing lasts forever.  We change from one season of our life to another.  It's that change that I often find myself fighting against with every fiber of my being.  I want to cling to the the things to which I've become accustomed.  I don't want to let go.  I don't want to have to say goodbye.

This isn't the first time that I've struggled with letting go of something, and God has spoken to me very clearly about the subject.  He has told me that I can only say "hello" to something new and better if I will say "goodbye" to something that I need to release.  God expects me to rejoice in my goodbyes.  He expects me to have a grateful heart.  He expects me to obey Him when He asks me to release one gift He has given me, in order that I might receive the next gift He has for me.  If I cling to that gift He's asking me to release, my hands are clasped tightly, holding on to something I no longer need.  I can only receive that new gift when my hands are emptied and open to God.

So I now have said my goodbyes to my water garden.  I have obeyed God in what I believe He is telling me to do, and I am waiting expectantly for that next gift He has for me.  It's time for a change.  It's time to let go.  And my heart will be forever grateful of the season of my life in which He blessed me with the beauty of a water garden.


"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.  I know that whatsoever God doeth, it shall be forever; nothing can be put to it, nor anything taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before Him."  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, 14