Not so very long ago, I noticed the flowers in my yard were wilting and I walked right by. I felt a little wilted myself, and I just sighed a commiserating sigh and left them to their plight as I’d left my heart to my own.
The day after I did the same, and the next day, and the next one too. Each time I saw them, I just thought, I know, dear flowers, I know.
On that fourth day though, I knelt down as I hurried off to do the things I had to do, I only had a moment and I don’t know why I stopped, there was nothing I could do to quench their thirst right then, nor my own, but still – I stopped and stared.
I swear I saw them quiver in some tiny bit of anticipation at my presence, but I walked away. Again. I promised myself to care for them, I knew they needed me. By the time the day had passed, my energy was spent and the flowers and I, both weary and filled with desperate thirst, were blanketed in the dark of another night.
When morning came the sky stayed darkened and bits of the heavens began to fall, the world outside my window glistened with every raindrop that fell, and the earth and the flowers soaked each one in. I looked out my rain-spattered window and saw the flowers dancing as the water from the sky fell to caress each tiny, wilted leaf – they were dancing – and I cried.
My tears fell as the rains came down to cleanse and nourish the land. At first they were tears of sadness, filled with frustration, guilt, anger . . . but then, my heart began to still, though the tears still poured in rivulets from my tired eyes.
Why did I ignore the flowers?
As the afternoon sun spilled forth rays of warmth, the flowers stood a little taller. The dust I’d let settle upon them was washed away and I swear, they were standing a little taller. The cleansing rains renewed and refreshed and replenished them, and in some way, those same rains gave me permission to cry and cleanse something in me as well, perhaps they came to make me see and feel and remember – remember to care for myself before I wilt and forget to water my garden.
I think I may be standing a little taller . . . maybe tomorrow I will stand even taller still.
Crystal Cook, otherwise known as Qwietpleez here on the interwebs, goes by many names, most notably “Mommy.” Proud wife and mother four, she is an Autism Warrior Momma and an advocate for those with special needs and their families. She writes about about life and love, the good and the bad, the serious and the silly over at theqwietmuse.com, and sometimes to make spare change for Venti iced coffees, she writes about other things. She has been a guest writer for Sammiches and Psych Meds, Mamalode, The Mighty, and a contributing writer for the books Lose the Cape: Never Will I Ever (and then I had kids), and Fall in Love With Writing. Find her at The Qwiet Muse and on Facebook and Twitter.
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