The power of flowers
In all of my life I have never been one of those girls who guys lavish with flowers. The one man in my life who always made sure I had at least one beautiful bouquet a year was my father. It was a ritual of sorts. On our birthdays he always made sure to bring home a bunch of flowers numbering the years we were celebrating that day; it was something he did "for his girls." Year to year it was always a surprise to see what kind of flowers he had chosen for us; and each year he would stage photography shoot to capture the women in his life holding the flowers he had picked for us. I cherish those memories so much and as an adult I kind of miss the ritual and symbology behind the gesture.
RebelPrivateer and dragonzzilla have bought me flowers once or twice over the years but it has never become a habit on their parts. This is by no means a slight onto them, its just fact. RebelPrivateer realizes that I am a more practical woman and I appreciate gestures of a more off-the-wall nature than traditionally "romantic" ones. He does things that few men are willing to do for their wives with any regularity... like he recognizes when I don't take enjoyment in doing a particular task and will step up and make it "his mission" to complete the task on my behalf. He'll let me sleep in, prepare a meal, and then take dragonzzilla off somewhere leaving me to my own vices in relative peace, knowing that I usually do not take time for myself. He'll even "let me win" when I am having a particularly bad day on the paintball field (he probably thinks I have not noticed but I have). Anyways, his gestures of appreciation or affection differ from those of most but it's something I have grown to love from him. As the years have gone by I have forgotten what it feels like to be the recipient of "traditional gestures" of love, compassion, or gratitude. Even my friends have picked up on my practicality and adjust how they show their love. So when someone deviates from that, it throws me a bit off balance and forces me to take a look at myself and my feelings on things. The results of such introspection seem to vary widely from an emotional epiphany of sorts to a simple recall of emotions and feelings once experienced and since filed away in the deep recesses of my memory.
Knowing that I have been sick for over a week and noticing how miserable I have felt, paganmysts surprised me a few days ago with a bundle of the most amazing roses I have seen in awhile. I am not normally a rose fan… anyone who has been to my house can attest to that. Evidence of such being that I have a decent sized rose bush (it came with the quarters) that I have allowed to go to total shit. At one point I even asked sidhefire to tear it out and take it with her. LOL! My view on roses is probably not typical of most women; of course I am far from typical. Gold, diamonds, roses, and gilded confectionaries have never impressed me much. Matter of fact, those kinds of expensive gifts have always seemed dispassionate and unoriginal, a waste of money, and totally undesired in my world. I prefer less expensive metals that are uniquely designed, gems that are uncommon and symbolic, wild flowers and other flora that bloom uncultivated, and handmade exotic foods that by their very nature require the person gifting the items to really consider their choices, spend time searching for the “right one,” or even things make them by their very own hands.
Anyways... I was lying in bed; partially asleep, all drugged up, feeling like total shit when I suddenly smell roses. I open my eyes to see flashes of pink and cream and I found myself grinning from ear to ear. However with no warning whatsoever the tears began to well up, warmth and tightness spread throughout my chest, and memories of birthdays and flowers began to replay in succession. Talk about being caught off-guard. Of course the confusion that flashed in paganmysts’s eyes told me that I had better start explaining myself really fast. So as the emotions and memories flooded throughout me, I began babbling like a rapidly flooding brook during a hard rain. Thankfully he’s a sensitive kind of guy and realized I needed to just work through the emotions so he put the flowers into a pitcher of water and then he just held me and let me babble on. It felt good to recall all of those birthdays and revisit the unending love and compassion I have towards my father no matter how rocky things may have gotten in our past. It also felt cleansing to revisit my feelings towards compassionate gestures and reevaluate things between myself and rebelprivateer in a way that I typically don’t consider. Yeah the journey probably appears convoluted and disjointed but the common thread that ties it all together began and ended with receiving flowers. Who knew?
paganmysts, Thank You for the flowers... I bet you thought they would be just a nice gesture to your sick friend. :-) They were of course... but I am more thankful for the introspection that they sparked in me. I admit, it was something I needed. *hugs*
New theory: I believe I like getting flowers now, even roses.
RebelPrivateer and dragonzzilla have bought me flowers once or twice over the years but it has never become a habit on their parts. This is by no means a slight onto them, its just fact. RebelPrivateer realizes that I am a more practical woman and I appreciate gestures of a more off-the-wall nature than traditionally "romantic" ones. He does things that few men are willing to do for their wives with any regularity... like he recognizes when I don't take enjoyment in doing a particular task and will step up and make it "his mission" to complete the task on my behalf. He'll let me sleep in, prepare a meal, and then take dragonzzilla off somewhere leaving me to my own vices in relative peace, knowing that I usually do not take time for myself. He'll even "let me win" when I am having a particularly bad day on the paintball field (he probably thinks I have not noticed but I have). Anyways, his gestures of appreciation or affection differ from those of most but it's something I have grown to love from him. As the years have gone by I have forgotten what it feels like to be the recipient of "traditional gestures" of love, compassion, or gratitude. Even my friends have picked up on my practicality and adjust how they show their love. So when someone deviates from that, it throws me a bit off balance and forces me to take a look at myself and my feelings on things. The results of such introspection seem to vary widely from an emotional epiphany of sorts to a simple recall of emotions and feelings once experienced and since filed away in the deep recesses of my memory.
Knowing that I have been sick for over a week and noticing how miserable I have felt, paganmysts surprised me a few days ago with a bundle of the most amazing roses I have seen in awhile. I am not normally a rose fan… anyone who has been to my house can attest to that. Evidence of such being that I have a decent sized rose bush (it came with the quarters) that I have allowed to go to total shit. At one point I even asked sidhefire to tear it out and take it with her. LOL! My view on roses is probably not typical of most women; of course I am far from typical. Gold, diamonds, roses, and gilded confectionaries have never impressed me much. Matter of fact, those kinds of expensive gifts have always seemed dispassionate and unoriginal, a waste of money, and totally undesired in my world. I prefer less expensive metals that are uniquely designed, gems that are uncommon and symbolic, wild flowers and other flora that bloom uncultivated, and handmade exotic foods that by their very nature require the person gifting the items to really consider their choices, spend time searching for the “right one,” or even things make them by their very own hands.
Anyways... I was lying in bed; partially asleep, all drugged up, feeling like total shit when I suddenly smell roses. I open my eyes to see flashes of pink and cream and I found myself grinning from ear to ear. However with no warning whatsoever the tears began to well up, warmth and tightness spread throughout my chest, and memories of birthdays and flowers began to replay in succession. Talk about being caught off-guard. Of course the confusion that flashed in paganmysts’s eyes told me that I had better start explaining myself really fast. So as the emotions and memories flooded throughout me, I began babbling like a rapidly flooding brook during a hard rain. Thankfully he’s a sensitive kind of guy and realized I needed to just work through the emotions so he put the flowers into a pitcher of water and then he just held me and let me babble on. It felt good to recall all of those birthdays and revisit the unending love and compassion I have towards my father no matter how rocky things may have gotten in our past. It also felt cleansing to revisit my feelings towards compassionate gestures and reevaluate things between myself and rebelprivateer in a way that I typically don’t consider. Yeah the journey probably appears convoluted and disjointed but the common thread that ties it all together began and ended with receiving flowers. Who knew?
paganmysts, Thank You for the flowers... I bet you thought they would be just a nice gesture to your sick friend. :-) They were of course... but I am more thankful for the introspection that they sparked in me. I admit, it was something I needed. *hugs*
New theory: I believe I like getting flowers now, even roses.