Well I thought I’d share the lilacs before they completely leave my memory for the season; all that’s left outside are skimpy handfuls of blossoms clinging to the dried stems.
Isn’t that the way? One day, the lilacs are in full bloom; the next day, they have folded. Today, I am scrubbing grubby hand prints off the walls; tomorrow, those hands will find work outside of growing up and leave my walls clean. I need to remember to kiss the palms of those hands whilst I can.
Sometimes I remember to pause in the time that I’m in to really see what is blooming in front of me, between washing dishes and checking homework and stuffing bills into envelopes. Maybe if I did that more often in this season…maybe when the fragrance of memory catches me at odd moments later in life…maybe the remembrance and scent will be satisfying and comforting to my heart. Perhaps. Otherwise, in my rush to (fill in the daily blanks), I’m afraid I may miss the bloom completely. And regrets smell rank, not redolent.
Childhood and lilacs: fleeting. Stop and enjoy the bouquets.
Blessings,
Bittersweet and poignant…
Simply beautiful.
I love lilacs. Where I grew us as a little girl they would always bloom right around my birthday and I think I assumed that was a special gift just for me.
Now next month my oldest will turn 5. He is an amazing and unique kid who likes to read Curious George and Beowulf, play Candy-land and chess, and watch Winnie the pooh and documentaries. Two little brothers chase after him, the baby looking so much as he did as an infant, and we live half a world away from where my husband and I married. Quite often I stop to ponder when did all of this happen and what is around the next corner for us.
Such a good reminder to stop and be in the moment. Thank you.