To all outside appearances, not much has changed since my last post. I’m sitting at the same table, still waiting for answers from grad schools, and probably eating the same “fancy ramen” lunch I ate the last time I posted. And yet, I feel different. Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and although Max and I don’t officially celebrate, I made him gifts and bought flowers .
The gifts were for him, the flowers were for me .
I really like flowers. It’s not the romance or anything like that, but it’s the surprise beauty of them. Crocuses and daffodils amaze me, because they will come up in the middle of snow. When I lived in Rochester, I couldn’t believe these little purple flowers that would peek up out of the snow in February or March. They promised spring, even in the middle of winter.
So, last week, when it felt like there was just no end to the waiting, I bought a hyacinth bulb to force on the window sill. It sounds violent, but it’s beautiful. And it smells amazing. There’s just a delicate perfume coming from the purple flower, not overwhelming like lilies, but not unlike the scent of them either. Max and I have watched the hyacinth bloom slowly over the last week. I know it’s fleeting, as with all things, but for now, the flower’s beauty is helping remember that things will be ok.
Ever since I bought the hyacinth, I’ve been seeing flowers everywhere. Nashville, the daffodils are out! February is almost over, and that means spring is almost here. Winter was so mild, I almost missed it.
So now, in addition to being a reminder that everything will be alright, these flowers I am seeing everywhere are now a reminder that I should slow down and enjoy this time that I have been given. March 1 can’t come fast enough, because I really want to know what the next five years is going to look like, but I also really don’t want to make any decisions right now. So, slow down, time. Let me contemplate the hyacinth and try to sniff the daffodil.
And yes, that is an anatomical heart, not a strawberry.