Get them yourself

?The world is finally beginning to open up again. Vaccines are readily available to all who choose to receive them. Businesses and offices are excitingly welcoming employees back. Beautiful smiles, once hidden for our own good, are now once again being seen and the sight of them is good for us all. For more than a year we were home … working … learning … growing … living and I for one couldn’t have been happier.

Don’t get me wrong; I like people, mixing, and mingling from time to time. But for me, this past year has been a blast as I continue creating the type of space that’s hard to leave. I’m not done yet – not by a long shot. But I will say what I’ve been able to do so far makes walking out the door a challenge and walking back in a joy. Just the way I planned it.

There are a couple of rooms I’ve barely touched. They’re sitting there almost as empty as they when I walked in. But here’s the good thing: I know where I want to go with them. In my minds eye I know exactly what I want those rooms to look like. Where this picture will hang, the color of this chair, that lamp, size, and color of the rug, on and on. I’ve got answers to all the inside questions. Now, the outside, more specifically the front yard, that’s a question that’s been hanging over my head since the day we first met.

The front yard is my spot and one of the reasons I fell in love with this house. There’s a big, strong tree anchoring the yard, a covered porch that provides enough shade to make even the hottest days pleasant while offering a full view of the day’s comings and goings. There’s also the flowerbed which takes up half of the yard. The flowerbed with three huge, mature Yucca plants and two boulders that weigh in excess of 500 pounds apiece. Every time I open my front door or wheel my car out of the garage, the flowerbed greets me. It looks my way with shoulders seemingly raised and palms turned up as if to say, “what’s the answer?” Each time I’d begrudgingly whisper, “I don’t have one … yet.”

For this house to truly become mine I knew I had to find one, I knew I had to do something with that huge flowerbed. Needless to say, this wasn’t a job that could be taken lightly and with homes to my left, right and directly in front of mine manicured and blooming, I started calling landscapers. One by one they came over and assessed the area. They took notes, copious notes, before submitting their quotes which ranged from somewhat reasonable to utterly ridiculous. One evening I sat sifting through them and decided on one that was right in the middle, thinking that would be my safest play. It wasn’t too low, and it wasn’t too high, and it felt just right.

We agreed on price and set a date: April 16th. Yes, April 16th was the day he and his crew were coming over to transform my flowerbed, to answer my question and give my front yard the pop I’d been looking for. The morning came … and no one showed up. Must be running late is what I thought, but as morning turned into afternoon and afternoon to night, it was clear to me they weren’t coming. For the next week I called and left messages, but got no responses, no replies -- nothing.

Days later I sat looking at a flowerbed that I thought for sure would be done by now, but still held a look and feel that wasn’t me at all. I got up and walked around it a time or two and began thinking, “what if I just did this myself?” I mean, hard work and I have always gotten along well. Even though the collar I wear today is white, the roots are blue so getting my hands a little dirty was nothing new. The more I rolled the idea around, the better it sounded, until one day a couple of weeks back, I began working on that flowerbed.

The boulders stayed because they’re just too heavy to move. Besides that, they add a lot of character to the yard. The Yuccas on the other hand, had to go. It took four days to get them out of the ground, but I finally did it. In their place I planted Azaleas. I thought it was only fitting seeing as how Azaela was the name of the street my father last lived on. Hydrangeas adorn the perimeter with entire area topped off with a nice, thick layer of black mulch.

I couldn’t be happier with the way things came together. Some flowers are already blooming, while others are busy soaking up the rain that’s been falling for the better part of two weeks. I’m confident once the rain stops and they’re formally introduced to the sun, just like the others, they too will begin to bloom, announcing themselves in a bold and beautiful way.

Early last week, I got a call from the guy who was supposed to do the work. He apologized and I accepted and then he asked if there was any way he could come by and complete the job as originally planned. I told him there was no need and before hanging up I made sure he knew there were no hard feelings. Looking back at that call, there’s only one way to sum it up. I guess you might say I got tired of waiting for him to bring me my flowers …

So, I went out and got them myself…

***

This world of ours is opening up again and some of the beautiful people who were with us when it closed aren’t here to see it open. Some family members, some friends, some who doubled as both; victims of the reason it closed, are resting easy in a better place.

As we wade through the pain and unravel the layers of loss the subject of flowers always comes up. Did anyone bring them their flowers before they left? Did his boys take him to a ballgame? Did her girlfriends treat her to a spa day? Were they loved or appreciated? Did they get an encouraging word at just the right time …or did they leave this life without ever receiving their blooming bouquet of flowers? The ones that could’ve made life full and changed everything around them.

From there we turn inward and make one small request of all those within our sphere --- give me my flowers while I’m still here … Here’s what I’ve learned. Flowers from others can be really nice, but nowhere is it written that you can’t give yourself those same beautiful flowers. No one ever said you can’t remind yourself how special you are, can’t remind yourself of your brilliance, love you, or bask in the glow of a life win.

Some of us have been waiting a long time, a lifetime, for someone to bring us our flowers. Here’s what I’ve learned. Just because no one has brought them to you, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. The flowers are yours and yours alone and they’re not waiting for anyone else, they’re waiting for you ...

So, go out and get them yourself …