Spring is when everything bursts into life—and this year, it happened just as my whole family fell sick for over two weeks.
It wasn’t a mild cold either. There were long days of coughing, aching, and sheer exhaustion. Yet, despite the fatigue, I couldn’t ignore the garden, my daughter, my husband, or our cats. Life doesn’t pause when we’re sick—especially when you’re the one quietly holding the home together.
Gardening While Sick: What I Managed
Even in my low-energy state, I found pockets of strength for what mattered. I wasn’t at my best, but I did just enough to keep things moving in the garden:
- Tomatoes: I moved them to the balcony, hoping the height would protect them from any last cold snaps. So far, they’re holding on.
- Peppers: My seedlings didn’t thrive without artificial light, so I gave in and bought young plants from a local grower. Not ideal, but a practical choice.
- Direct sowing: Between coughing fits, I planted cucumber seeds, red beet, brussels sprouts, corn, and beans straight into the ground.
Slow Living Isn’t Always Restful
People often imagine slow living as calm mornings, homemade bread, and garden walks. But real slow living is also about persistence. It’s about doing what you can, when you can, even if that means planting seeds while dizzy from fever.
It’s also about saying yes to rest when possible—and no to perfection. The peppers might not have grown under my care this year, but I still chose to support a local grower. That’s part of the rhythm too.
What I Learned from a Spring Spent Sick
Being forced to slow down made me reflect on the balance of care—how we tend to our families, our gardens, and ourselves.
- Resilience doesn’t always look heroic. Sometimes it’s just getting dinner on the table and watering the plants.
- Gardens forgive us. Seeds will wait. Weeds will grow back. We always get another chance.
- Self-care isn’t optional. The garden needs us healthy. So do our loved ones. That means accepting help, resting, and adjusting expectations.
Looking Ahead with Gratitude and Realism
Now that I’m slowly recovering—with just a lingering cough—I’m easing back into writing, gardening, and simply being. The tomatoes are outside. The soil is seeded. The family is healing. And I’m back.
To anyone else out there navigating spring while feeling less than well: you’re not alone. This too is part of the cycle. Be gentle with yourself—and remember that even sick, tired hands can plant a beautiful future.
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