I buy myself flowers every now and then. For No Reason Whatsoever. They make me smile and lift my spirits when I see their bright blooms atop long stems. I said, "Yes!" to a $4.00 bouquet of Pink Carnations a week ago, on June 11, 2011, during an early morning trip to the grocery store. We'd returned home from vacation late the night before and were needing milk and bread. I craved the Little Pick Me Up that buying fresh flowers always brings. A cheerful, "Welcome Home" wrapped in plastic from the floral display. This Homecoming was different. Unusual for me. I didn't want to come back. Ever. Part of me wanted to keep Hotel Hopping and Road Tripping across the country in our van indefinitely. Especially if it meant I could keep my husband's recent cancer diagnosis at bay awhile longer. Alas, It Doesn't Work That Way. Home was here. Waiting for us. Along with Reality and our Green Eyed Cat.
Those who Know Me Well may be raising their eyebrows at my choice in carnation color. I Am Not A Pink Girl. You won't catch me wearing soft shades of p-i-n-k. Ever. Maybe hot pink on occasion. Salmon too. Coral sometimes. Then there is violet which blends both pink and purple hues. There is A Rhyme To My Reason though. This is why I passed up the red, yellow, white and two-tone carnations for uncharacteristic pale pink blooms…
Before he was my husband, there was dating and The Thrill Of Falling In Love. The flutter, excitement and lightheadedness at knowing he was near. I was still in college. Working at the mall part time my senior year. He used to bring me flowers on our month anniversaries. Pink carnations to be exact. And see me on my break. One, two, three, four…I'm not sure when it stopped. I didn't mind or notice at the time. The Wooing Phase was ending as our Lives Intertwined. The Love was there. Growing stronger. Holding us together even now. Here's a little secret. I'm whispering, so lean in close. I used to be A Pink Girl. I still have The Proof Of It hanging in my closet. Way back when, on our first date, 19 years ago this summer, I wore a pale pink shirt. Not sure why I've always kept it. Other than That's Just What I Do. I Save Things. Sentimental through and through.
Yesterday morning, my bouquet of pink carnations looked so pretty sitting in the center of our oak kitchen table with slivers of sunlight peeking through the blinds. Lovely. Soothing. Happy too. They did the trick to shift my mood and bring a secret smile to my lips. All week long I've been admiring them with shining eyes as I think back o'er the years and remember those first few bouquets of pink carnations.
© 2011, Janean Baird Turquoise Tangles