Everyone has heard the phrase “It’s better to give roses while they’re still alive” in some variation or other. I usually trail off after saying something like “It’s better to send roses now…” My Dad called me several weeks ago to tell me how much he loved me and how special I am to him because he wanted to “give” me “roses” now instead of wishing he had when it’s too late. Although he did assure me that he didn’t think it would be “too late” for awhile. Whew! It got me to thinking though about roses and sending them and who to send them too.
It can be a dangerous thing to send roses publicly to someone or several someones because you risk missing someone and hurting feelings. I had considered writing a post listing everyone I love and cherish and sending them literary bouquets of roses (or at the least daisies!) but I feel like that would steal something from the heartfelt sentiment and possibly have a trite feeling to it or feel that it’s being written out of obligation. Receiving roses is a special thing even if you live on a rose farm and sleep on sheets made from rose petals…it’s the thought that makes it special. Knowing that someone singled you out to let you know you’re special to them. I was inspired by my Dad’s lovely bouquet and I want to send some of my own. So look for Sending Roses posts sometime in the near future.
For the record I’m using the word “devastation” in a very exaggerated way. I’m by no means really devastated. Except that I am – pettily.
I Corinthians 11:15:
“…if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her…”My “glory” has taken a pretty strong hit recently. I’ve written that my hair is falling out in clumps due to postpartum hormone fluctuations and so far the new pregnancy hormones haven’t reversed that trend. My ponytail is probably a 1/5th of its previous thickness. Seeing as this is the second time I’ve been in this particular boat I tell myself “this too shall pass” and soldier on. But a discovery was made last weekend regarding my “glory” that I fear can’t be undone not with any permanent solution.
It is with great sadness I announce that due to advanced maternal age – I have tons and tons of gray hair. It’s been disguising itself as “blonde” hair but upon closer inspection it’s most definitely not blonde.
I haven’t come to terms with this unexpected turn of events yet. My crowning glory has turned from gold to silver.
A moment of silence to observe the loss of youth would be in order.