I recently had a bouquet of red roses. Roses are my favorite because they are so fragrant. I love how they begin closed & condensed. As the days progress they open and become a fuller, more voluminous spray. Each one different, but all are beautiful. Out of my bouquet, I plucked a single one to put in a bud vase near my bed. It lasted so long, I forgot all about it. The other day, I looked at it, and it sat there in the vase with its head bowed down and a little withered. Other than the bent stem at the base, the rose looked the same as the day I plucked it from its bouquet. It stopped me dead in my tracks. I stood there noticing, the beauty I'd taken for granted and wondered where the time had gone...For some reason, I had it in my head that the rose represented my life. I never wanted to be taken for granted, beauty faded, and head bowed down. Some flowers die and look the same way they did when they were alive. Some flowers age but don't wither. Experience in preservation can help a flower last forever. That is the way I'd like to be.In life I've noticed so many that have just faded and given up. People I love and respect who just don't have any more fight in them. They don't know how to look on the bright side or find any happiness or joy in life. Oftentimes, I find myself being the voice of reason to some of my friends. Encouraging and motivating I have been called. But really, I don't think I am any different than most. It's all in my perspective. I've seen the sad and sorry side of life. My heart has been broken, and I have felt defeated just like everyone else. I have been so sad that I could not see my way out of it without a prescription, and I've spent days crying and grieving for lost loves.
Experience has taught me how to preserve my happiness. I've learned how to find the joy in life even if it's a joke from a friend, a kiss from my children, or a walk in the park, I treat myself to these inexpensive, but priceless gems as much as possible. I've learned to use these things to pull myself out of the inevitable funks that we all are subject to...those funks that you can't always get out of by yourself. I remind myself of those special "me" moments in order to preserve my optimisim. See, the rose will always die. What matters is the nurturing & care that it gets when it's alive. I felt bad for the rose that I forgot about. I could have dried it & pressed it into a book & kept it forever. I stood there frozen knowing that it may have been too late for the rose in my bud vase, but it reminded me to continue taking good care of me.
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