Gloria's Gardens

A seed planted in 1938, bore the most beautiful fruit until 2024.

Your first harvest was produced in a tiny town called Retreat, atop a sunny mountain terrain named Clarendon, Jamaica.

A peaceful morning on February 10th, brought an island apple named Gloria.

She was as unique as a snowy day in June.

Red complected with the sweetest core.

Protected by her mommy apple, daddy apple, and gally apple too, she was surrounded by other fruit, who guided her as she bloomed.

Playful as a pineapple, she'd use her pretty straw dollies to imagine and dream.

Mischievous as a mango tief, she'd yell "moooo cowww" to other fruits in the field as they'd freeze, and then scream.

It was there in Retreat's soil, she was nurtured for many moons to come.

Until she met Edbert Seymour Salmon, who made her his june plum.

What was once an island apple was now a garden goddess, with hibiscus on her heart setting his a flame of the woods.

She returned his amore in secluded pastures,

Though hers was always more of a subtle simmer like a gardenia gleaming in sunlight, dancing on morning dew.

When he asked for her hand in marriage,

She said onto him one thing..

"I'll only join your garden, if you promise me this,

On the days there is sun, and our yield produces a plenty,

we must remember that these times will come again, in the seasons of barren expire."

And so the garden transplant was successful.

From Jamaica to England, then England to the United States.

They traveled in unison, throughout 6 decades of space.

Forming fruit together, multiplying that by six, and in time, many more.

Planting seeds in their seedlings, lessons everlasting.

2 peas in a pod,

My Grandma and Grandpa.

They taught me how to love myself and grew me to be kind.

They taught me that a flourishing field, does not grow overnight.

They taught me to be humble and to hold my head up high.

They taught me that I need to love God, my family, and this earth, as that love will never die.

Plants are like us in many ways, thriving on nutrients, rain, and sunshine.

From a seed they grow into a fully formed plant, impacting the ecosystems from which they form. Some may germinate and take claim in other pastures, while others may stay in the firmament from which they bud.

But all require those essential keys to thrive and be alive.

I was blessed to be born into your garden,

And I'll do my best to ensure it grows.

I love you Gloria Madge Thompson Salmon

I hope you're enjoying your new home.

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 On Tuesday, June 4th, 2024 I saw a man die and come back to life.

My therapist helped me to realize that, that scared me.

It was in one of my favorite places in Providence, by the Pedestrian bridge. He was in one bush, putting something in his veins.

I was by another bush, smoking weed by the water talking to my sister on the phone saying how blessed I felt to live in a place I could confidently call home.

I get off the phone and unlight my joint. I head to my car with a plan to get some more work done after my workday was already done.

I hear screaming. I nosely saunter over thinking it was a drunk public dispute.

A nerdy man waves me over and says, "it's an overdose, do you know where to find narcan?"

I do. I run to the nice office building across the street with a mission to get the narcan I knew was near the bathroom sink.

But then we see the ambulance...they are going the wrong way.

So we switch directions to waive them toward the dying man, left dead in bush, trying to escape from whatever with whoever by anything means necessary.

The ambulance gets to him and puts a shot in his veins. Hes still not moving so they apply pressure to his chest. Their blue gloves touch his blue veins trying to get a pulse.

His head looks red and hot like he's been baking in the sun all day.

More thrusts to the heart, more pressure, more pressure.

And finally...he jerks...back to life...back to reality.

He jerks again...back to life...back to normality.

He seems disoriented but he's alive...thank God.

I gave the ambulance man a thumbs up, thanking God for creating angels in human form.

First responders deserve a bigger check.

I start to walk to my car, unpacking what I just witnessed when a Botoxed Becky comes too close for comfort.

"Did you see what happened?" she asks.

"Yes, overdose, it's sad," I reply.

"Oh, well sometimes those guys are just mad you messed up their high," she suggests.

I think to myself that's an inhumane, unempathetic thing to say about a human being who was dead less than a few minutes ago but go head Botox Becky. But, the words that come to my lips simply say,

" I really just pray he finds the healing that he deserves, therapy is so expensive, I couldn't afford it myself just last year, so whatever is going on with him, I pray he finds the healing he needs"

She changes her tone, to a more somber note.

I walk to my car, away from the bullshit.

This is America, the land of red, white and blue.

Where 2 things can be happening at once, and both are true.

Where one person in a bush can chatter with glee about life and all of its intricacies.

And another person in a bush, just a few feet away could be nearing the end of his life, unintentionally.

Just a few feet away. Our realities so different.

But they intersected, if only for a few minutes.

I pray he's okay.

I call my sister when I'm back in my car to tell her what happened in the 10-minutes since we've been apart.

Back to life, back to reality.

Back to life, back to normality.