dandelion heart.
So, it's that time of year. I told you this would happen. Cold drizzly
days have been replaced with sunshine! Winter chores packed up and
traded for days in the garden, eating outside and forever daylight. If I
would have remembered May could be this swoony, I would have run off
with her long ago. It's like clockwork, really, it's how I monitor the
comings and goings of my life. The good news is, we got the gardens weeded and mulched, not an easy task, and to
celebrate, I’m sitting at the table, listening to the birds outside,
thrilling at the fact that it’s 8:24 pm and I haven’t yet flipped on a
single light switch. And because it feels like time is on my side (yes
it is, la la la, though probably just for tonight), I have been making some
mental notes about my annual "to buy for the garden" list. I'm sure it
seems like such a list is not necessary, but it sorta helps me to stay
on task. In it's absence, I end up wandering aimlessly around local
nurseries, intoxicated by the scent of roses, hydrangea and foxglove.
bewitched by their beauty. I kinda forget that everything I buy becomes
fodder for the deer squatting on my property. and instead buy a few more
garden gnomes or something for the birds to nest in.
Not that there is anything wrong with that! But I've found that it's
easier to rationalize adding to the pile of unnecessary objects when you
also throw something into the to do category. This year I'm looking for
things for my vegetable garden. it is inching it's way to the top of my
list and I am getting excited about all the possibilities. although I
have given no thought to the color scheme or even the vision of
security. I do know that tomatoes are invited, but that's all I've got
so far. this time of year sings to me. twirls magic out of thin air like
spun sugar at the carnival.
I am smothered in those feelings. when I think about them, what I would
really like to do is fill a bottle with all the hugs, stories, memories,
whispers, tears, and laughter. then pour it out like perfume one day in
the far flung future on my old woman's heart. the sacred gift of
friends. one of the joys of life. it is one of those things that keeps
you tethered to your youth. it reminds you that once upon a time a lazy
summer day and your bestie is all it took to have the best day ever...
and maybe it could still be that simple. a night out with old friends
certainly deserves a moment in the sun. especially when the sun feels
the furthest away. and a special hats off to one who tried to tame a
bunch of fifteen sixtysome years olds into a serious
discussion. cracks me up. just a good time, a party with no one really
prone to show boating. I love spending time with them...it only happens a
few times a year.
not nearly enough. The thing is, when you're friends, even if you don't
really see each other that often, well, you're still friends. It's just
something that you can feel, an understanding. there's a history.
getting together with friends? yes please.
I don't know about you, but I have learned that there are two things
that don't keep, youth and summer. I intend to squeeze every last drop
out of both. I keep making adjustments. I'm learning to hold things
feather-lightly. I am growing in ways I never thought about. at my
age!!! and that is a difficult thing to make sense of. I am grateful for
the blessings I have been entrusted with, knowing full well that
tomorrow I may have to give them back. I am still so very
wealthy in the eyes of the rest of the world. So far, I have not had to
give everything away. but what I have, was precious. It was hard. still
is, maybe more so now. I take seriously the command to care for others
and to savor every single ding dang moment we have. and I can't really
do that if I'm only thinking of myself.
My hope is that just as I look back now on these moments in my life I will smile. I hope it will be more about letting go then holding on. That each day begins in the usual way, somersaulting through the usual humdrum of joy, fits of laughter and tears with the occasional heart piercing pangs that result when the sum total of love in my heart exceeds the available square footage. every day it is the same mix. that is how I like it. I guess you have noticed my propensity for yammering on about these things, serving up proof of their magnificence and worth. But you and I both know - they're only that. They're borrowed moments. Split-second clicks of time that elevate the simplest feelings. This is my life...with a bow in its hair. I could focus on piles of dirty laundry or my recent well-worn path to grief, and sometimes I do. But most days? I'll eat my pie straight out of the pan. thank you. I will be accountable for all of it, one day. but not today.
I usually hate endings. I'm a walking ad for Zoloft the day after a holiday. and the last day of vacations send me over the edge. But tonight, after the perfect day, and right before the start of another whirl wind week, I'm actually cool with it. Better than that. the winding down is necessary and good. The starting out is quiet. We all process things in our own way. This is mine. I'm always ready to wake up and start a new week. Maybe I'm just getting
I found this in my garden today. A dandelion.
It's a weed. right? I think they are beautiful though. It slowly grows into a yellow, kinda, almost flower. It soon
becomes white, fragile, easily broken. Until it is
blown, and left bare. But it isn't left hopeless. Because if there is
good soil, a good solid foundation, a new one will sprout up. And it is amazing once again. Our
hearts are like that, like dandelions.
just sayin'.
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