|Fall flowers persist in their glory.|
There is a reason aphorisms become so well-accepted; the little credo of truth that is forwarded, often holds true. This was glaringly obvious to me today when I realized I was thinking in aphorisms.
As I made the rounds outside, beginning to bring in the cushions and chairs that had, earlier, served as early harbingers of spring, I noticed the flower on a salvia plant. I had planted it in early May, hoping it would survive. At the time, its stalk was as thin and pliable as a piece of wet spaghetti. Summer took hold, as did the plant.
It blossomed. The blossoms lasted the entire summer; even now, in a last hurrah to summer, it blooms. I was glad I stopped to observe and consider the gift of that flower in my garden. Stop and smell the roses.
I have long loved to watch my husband build. Inevitably, I learn. I am constantly amazed at the vision, precision and skill that goes into the houses, decks, and furniture I have seen him construct. His skill with wood is native to him, while it is a language I have spent a lifetime acquiring. Today, I found myself chuckling out loud when I watched him remeasure the length of a board he was readying to cut. Measure twice, cut once.
My brother-in-law called me last week and suggested we make one last offer on my father’s house to try to preserve its legacy and keep it in the family. It has been on the market for about sixteen months with one rather tortured deal in the offing from a family from out-of-state. My brother-in-law proposed to be my partner and spokesperson in an offer. Our first offer -- a year ago -- was shot down. He made the two hour drive to western Mass from the Boston area to meet with my father’s representative. I felt relief, knowing that we would leave no stone unturned.
After along day, I fell asleep sitting up, wearing my Bose headphones, watching a PBS show on my laptop. Five hours later, the longest stretch I have slept uninterrupted in about five years, I was still sitting up, wearing my Bose headphones with my computer open on my lap. The battery had run down, and the screen was black.
It was Voltaire who said, “God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid too laugh. “
Well, guess what, I am ready to laugh!