It’s Still Spring… Even at Home #15

Lilacs hold special meaning to me… a reminder of what I’ve overcome and how easily life can fall apart. So I make a point of having fresh lilacs in my home every spring. I love the way these flowers look, I love the way they smell, and I love what they stand for. They grow wildly, scattered around town, in parks and gardens, even by the side of the road, but instead of pinching a few beautiful flowers, I choose to purchase them, usually from some old biddy.

That wasn’t an option this spring… and as I was staring from my window at the budding lilac shrub in the garden, I felt overwhelmed by an unexpected wave of sadness. I wouldn’t have lilacs in my home this year, and somehow that became the symbol for everything that was wrong with the world. It’s the small, sometimes ridiculous, things that trigger us… Sure, I could have gone out and picked some the flowers, then argue with one of my difficult neighbours, who’s convinced the lilac belongs only to her, even if it’s a common garden… but it wouldn’t have been the same.

I needed to be sad, that’s the truth; low moments have their purpose and like it or not, they have to be dealt with before moving on, before finding the positive. Ironically, it was the lilacs that pulled me out of my funk a few days later, providing me with a fresh perspective on what and why I should appreciate. That simple realization lifted a terrible weight off my heart.

So I enjoyed lilacs from afar this spring, waiting for the breeze to bring a whiff of their wonderful scent up to my open window. But what matters is, there were lilacs to be enjoyed… as beautiful and scented as always. A different perspective was still available and the freshly acknowledged truth was, things could have been so much worse.