The Weakness of a Rose

Yesterday, I got roses. For a moment I admired their color, the moistness of their petals, and the thorns upon their stems. They are a truly beautiful flower. They are, in a way, very seductive. But that is it.

They are not for me. Maybe I think too much into to specific things like “roses”. Maybe not. A couple weeks back on my birthday, I received a dozen Gerber Daisies, a dozen Red Carnations, as well as a dozen roses. Out of all of these flowers, the carnations are the only ones that are still vibrant, healthy and strong. Weeks later they are still neatly placed upon my kitchen table.

This leads me back to the rose and how fragile and weak it is. How just touching it can lead to sore fingers. To ponder the intricate details of what makes it tick. Then to compare this life to that of a rose.
How quickly we would drop our petals and wither away?

Would we fight it?

There is no fixed long term place for these flowers. Just a few days to admire before they age on and their petals brown. This species is bought and cherished based only on its outer appearance. Reminding me of how irrational we can be.

Roses are similar to the lilac, in weaknesses and life span-with the exception of cost. Yet, the lilac’s scent is mind blowing- and for me personally, it is worth much more than the rose. I look forward to this smell every spring, and am saddened that it is only for a couple short weeks.

The dandelion is a friend to the child, and exhibits such strength and empowerment as it spreads across the yard. Yet, this flower is hated and fought by so many. And I, like many other mothers, sit with glasses full of these on my table all spring and summer. Sometimes there are so many that we end up eating in the floor. I smile thinking of yellow stained noses and fingers.

~To appreciate the worth of a flower, is much easier than appreciating the worth of another human being~Joelly Scheff

~We are all but flowers in this life, weak, strong, despised, worshiped…and we all have something beautiful to set on the table. ~Joelly

Tuesday Morning Laugh.

Kids are great. Not only do the things they say make us laugh, surprise us, even embarrass the heck out of us. But, these seemingly innocent remarks help us  re-evaluate  who we are and the beliefs we hold-plus they help old moms and dads feel young, right? What is great about kids is these seemingly innocent reminders about our age are all unintentional.  Even when they wear us out, they are the best companions parents can ever have.

The time we spend with our children is equally important. We  need to be able to laugh and just be goofy with our kids. This past week my three daughters and I have had plenty to giggle about. Thus, giving me plenty to think about. Here are a few of my conversations-drafted only to help put you in a good mood on this wonderful Tuesday.

Conversation 1:

Last week while in the car Emi, my 11 year old stated  that there is a new rock song that she just loves (of course she added the typical cool11 year old emphasis on the word love) What is interesting is that this new song was done by a band that I used to listen to. This should be easy, right? Nope.  I quickly became aware of how little she knew about the bands I enjoyed when I was a her age. I thought to myself-gee it would be nice if she could remember. Obviously, the only way to solve this riddle was to start naming bands. This is just what we did.

Me: Poison?

Emilee: Nope.

Me: Bon Jovi?

Emilee: Nope

Me: Warrant

Emi: Nope

Me: Journey:

Emi: nope:

I listed probably 100 bands and finally asked:

New Kids on the Block?

Emilee: Yes-that’s it!  She then recanted with-Are they still alive, mom?

What is it with kids, that ask this question??? Seriously? Am I that old?

Yet, it still makes me laugh, and it allows me to remember myself at her age and how old my parents seemed to me.

Conversation 2:

Sunday morning my youngest and I were working out listening to music. Of course, my older two were sitting on the couch laughing at us (probably more fun than cleaning their bedrooms anyway).  Carlie and I kept our cool though, you know why? Because we are awesome like that, and besides we are strong and healthy because we take care of our bodies (wink wink) (P.S. have you ever seen an 8 year old attempt abdominal leg raises-that is funny stuff right there!) So,  we continued working up a sweat as we began doing abdominal leg raise and reverse crunches. Carlie lying next to me on the floor just huffing and puffing (but that could have been me too)-our weights in hand we brought our arms and legs up. Within moments Carlie begins to giggle and giggle. Soon, her arms lay at her sides and the weights were no longer in hand, and her little body curls up in a ball watching me as I continue working.  Soon after she says,

“Mama, these exercises really work because they just popped a fart right out of me.”

And then ( In my little and then voice from Dude Where’s My car) I, too, began to laugh.

Life is but a spark-keep the flame strong!

 

 

Play-Doh, Pink.

 

I watch her juvenile fingers,

As she squeezes and then presses the clay,

Into the soft shape of a heart.

I take notice,

Of her expression,

Her little tongue hanging outside of her mouth,

As she focuses on her masterpiece,

Made of Play-Doh, pink.

Her uncombed weekend hair hanging in her eyes,

Yet, somehow she manages to envision,

A shape so delicate,

Yet, so overlooked.

For a moment there is a sort of peacefulness filling the atmosphere.

As two hearts beat amongst the clay between their fingers.

Life so delicate.

Appreciate it.   

Brandi

I lost a friend, and a sister on that warm April day back in 98′. This week has always been rather hard for me as I remember and ponder.

You come to mind often, and with that memories, lyrics, and stories we never told our parents because the Lord knows we would have died sooner had they known. I came across this song today, and immediately thought of you, the man who took your life, and just how little of a punishment he received; 15 months to be exact. When you lost so much more than that.

And the questions I would ask, and continue to ask..”Why YOU?”

http://www.mcbw.org/files/u1/femicide1998.pdf

What You Throw Away

 

I love old stuff.  Whether this is cars, houses, furniture or music-even tools.  As long as it’s dated, I love it.  These items tell their own story.  Though we might not know what that is, we can imagine.  Let’s take these kitchen utensils for instance. 

Photo Credit: Oksana at Etsy.com

You can tell by the wear on the handles that they were loved once.    They were probably a wedding gift, or maybe even a birthday gift.  I love how each piece shows different signs of wear than the one next to them.  Each chip in the paint, crack and splatter of rust can tell you many things about the person who once owned them.  First, the woman was gentle, clean and took good care of her belongings.  I can see that the peeler in the middle was used most often by the wear of paint, and the melon baller used the least. I can tell you this woman didn’t host many parties, and made do with what she had.   In today’s society, we overbuy, fail to appreciate and quickly throw away what we consider, clutter.   Machines do everything for us, contributing to this laziness.  Reaching further, I wonder…just how else this may be affecting people today.

I love going to thrift/antique shops to find old stuff, this way it can have a place again.  This past week Carlie and I went to see what they had. She is so much like me, in the fact that she tells a great story, writes a great poem, and can find one specific piece in the local Goodwill store and will quickly tell a story about it. As we walked through the isles hand in hand, she stopped. I didn’t notice right away as I was inspecting a dated piece of furniture.  I felt the tug of her hand soon after, and turned to find her inspecting two antique dolls.   I watched her as her eyes went back and forth from each one, her gentle hands carefully touching their vinyl and porcelain parts.  She whispered,” Mama these babies haven’t had much love.”  “They have all their parts.” “They do not look like your old babies at all” She was right, the dolls that my Great-Grandmothers had given me were in far worse condition than these.  One is missing both legs, one arm and its face has cracks all over it. The other two that were given to me, were in better shape though not perfect like these.  I asked Carlie, “Do you think that if we brought these babies home that you could love them more?” To which she replied, “Yes, but we need to keep them with your other babies, Mama.” “This way they have friends to tell their own stories with.”  

Photo Copyright of the Author

You can observe and understand many things about others by what they throw away.

You can see their stories, their needs, desires as well as their frustrations.  

We are never truly alone.

Take notice of the small things, they matter too.