Hard not to feel the sting of separation this holiday locked away from our families and friends. Usually I’d put out my grandmother’s cut glass olive dish, a tablecloth I stole from Mom and fill GG’s vintage Bacardi trifle dish to make them feel closer. But all of it, like ourselves, is locked away for another time.

Because that's what happens in 2020. You scramble your way to a comfortable seat amongst the slippery rocks, the tide shifts, and you're left treading water and looking for land once again.

But the true gift of my garden isn’t the food but the moments when I connect my loss or my win with the way the world works— experiencing the macrocosm in the microcosm.

When I found myself choking back sobs as Wilson the volleyball floated away on screen, I knew it was time.