When I show the gardens, people act surprised.
Whether they’re experienced gardeners or a version of myself four years ago (without any knowledge); they’re taken aback that I have not one–but nine gardens . How do I have the time?
I teach, raise a teen with autism and ADHD, am a wife, about to begin a educational doctorate in August, and diagnosed with PTSD, depression and anxiety, for which I receive regular treatment.
Gardening Aids PTSD
There are periods of time when I can’t work in the gardens after a post traumatic stress disorder or depressive episode because they exhaust me. I’ve referred to a non-specific event in April 2024, which triggered me back May 27, 2020, when we lost Corrie. I had flashbacks and headaches believing myself responsible for the death all over again. My PTSD reactions usually look like headaches, flashbacks, losing sense of the time I’m in, and I disappear, literally.
When I am myself, I want to make other people smile in all the ways available to me because I never want them to feel the heartbreak I did.
I speak openly about PTSD both on TikTok and here–without getting too personal–because of the stigma associated with it.
Whether a war veteran who suffered atrocities beyond our imaginations, a firefighter, police officer, an EMS worker, a teacher who has witnessed repetitive violence or mistreatment in any school, or a parent who witnesses their child’s death; they need to know they’re not alone.
They walk in society among us. They’re not monsters. They have experienced nightmares which detach us from the innocence of childhood.
One reason I possess a single golden thread to education is through observing the joy and sense of fun in my eighth graders. It is how they grow and prepare for high school. I see their dreams, even if they haven’t realized them, begin to flourish.
But the gold on the single thread begins to fade when I experience an event(s) that would seek to plunge me into darkness again. Even with all the care and strength I possess, there are times I just want peace and for the world to leave me alone because I’m doing the best I can as a wife, mom, teacher, and human being.
Even as the parent of a teen with autism, you are judged differently and sometimes harshly. There’s a different zone for you and your child. Add to that, you try to rebuild yourself while also raising a teen full of energy, and who has his own grief.
But nine gardens occupy my. mind, They keep me physically active, allow me to let out my anguish, see Corrie grow up in a different way, and they also give my son a sense of responsibility.
Plant Connections
Two of my students brought me a small Christmas tree.
“Mrs. Bridges, it’s dying,” one said. “Can you save it?”
“Someone just left it in their classroom.”
The small, potted tree had yellow needles on it. It wasn’t dead, yet, but you could see it was checking out.
“We knew you could save it.”
In such a moment, it was a reminder of why I still teach. These two students were truly upset about the plant dying. It was a reminder of how caring their spirits were in comparison to the people who just threw trash on the side of the road where we live. It was a moment when that single golden thread, still attaching me to my career to which I’ve given fourteen years, shined.
I took the small tree out of it’s pot, and broke up the roots with my hands. Something about touching dirt in the classroom grounded me, and told me then, “If you’re to make it a few more years as a teacher, you need to put plants in your classroom.”
Garden Journeys
Gardening, much like writing and other artistic pursuits, are intimate.
In the video, you see three, and I put a summary of all on TikTok and the YouTube short. The gardens take center stage on our family farm blog, Corrie’s Acres and Farm Photography. I’m still preparing the garden pages, and the first post.
The Butterfly Garden gave me the start. We requested people donate plants following Corrie’s graduation to heaven. It features chimes with her name given to me by a student I saw at the end of the school year, who’d just graduated. Another student gave me yellow calla lilies, which I planted under the dogwood. It has a retaining wall built by John.
Arendelle is the largest garden. It was named after Corrie’s love of Frozen. In the spirit of Frozen, I included a winter garden with conifers and evergreens, such as the gold mop cypress. It features five sections, two smaller sections, and a back row of six arborvitaes in the shape of a crescent. We’re currently in the process of transitioning this entire garden into no dig.
The Anniversary Garden was named for May 27, 2020, to honor the day Corrie graduated to heaven. This is the first one I planned from beginning to now. I designed it as a 100 percent no dig. It will eventually form the same of a pie. The area planted now is the front part.
All video content, photos, and writing by R.A. Bridges, Corrie’s Mommae
Corrie's Season 