Saturday, January 14, 2012

For You... from the Universe

"Life is the flower for which love is the honey." ~Victor Hugo

I posted a status update on Facebook this morning asking what I should blog about today.  A sweet friend suggested I just let the topic come to me... so I did... 
And what came first was the idea of flowers.
This is not surprising to me... that I should immediately think of flowers when considering a blog post about love.
Flowers, to me, are the most perfect examples of the beauty of the universe,
and how loved we are by our creator.
They are rife with metaphors that touch on every aspect of the human condition.

So today I leave you with a question, as opposed to my usual homily.
What do flowers tell YOU about how loved YOU are?

Please take a moment not only to stop and smell those roses, but to reflect on what they are telling you.  I would love to hear what 'comes' to you! 

joyfully yours...


  1. One of the first things that came to mind was the love my parents had for each other. My father sent my mother flowers often. When I asked my mother why my dad sent her flowers, she would answer, "because he loves me and that is his way of giving me a special feeling of his love". The flowers were always pink, which was my mother's favorite color.

    1. I know this is not saying how loved I am, except that my parents showed me how to love other people thru their thoughtfulness and kindness.

    2. Wow... I LOVE it PAS... and I have always found the gift of flowers to say so much and offer so much love. And how dear that you immediately thought of your parents :) I'm sure they'd be tickled pink!

  2. This afternoon we took a ride to the beach (Atlantic Ocean). We live in an area that has a lot of resort type things, winters are rather slow. The drive to the beach takes about 25 minutes from our house. Since there is very little traffic, my mind goes in a million different areas. This is a memory of my grandfather. I know it long winded and is just something that came to mind.

    My grandfather grew up in Chicago. At a young age, he went into the service. Married and started a family. After serving in the military, he worked for the post office. World War II, both his sons (my dad and uncle) were drafted into the service. Both left home within months of each other. While my dad was in boot camp, his mother died. Here was my grandfather, his two (and only) children leave for military service and his wife dies. There is no way that I could ever feel the pain he must have felt. Several years later, he did remarry. It didn't last and they were divorced. When my grandfather told me the story, he admitted that he should never had remarried. He was still very much in love with my grandmother and was comparing his second wife to her. It was doomed from the start. After retiring from the post office, my grandfather traveled the country by Greyhound Bus. He visited my uncle, who lived in AZ, one of his half-brothers lived in CA. Of course, he visited us on the east coast. My mother used laugh, he tell her he was visiting for two weeks...she knew it was going to two to six months. He felt at home with us. One day my father called me at work and said we were going to the airport to pick up my grandfather. My grandfather never flew...always Greyhound Bus or train. We knew it was serious for him to fly to us. Yes, it was. He had cancer and only a few months to live. My parents took care of him as long as they could. They eventually had to put him into a nursing home. My grandfather was a Midwesterner, didn't talk much. I visited him almost every day. This one day the nurse said they couldn't get him to talk at all. When I walked into the room, he smiled and said, "Bessie, I've been waiting for you, I didn't think you were coming. I wanted to tell you again how much you mean to me". He had a big smile on his face, and he talked like I never heard him talk before. I was totally grandmother's name was Bessie. Since I never knew my grandmother and there are very few pictures of her, I never saw a resemblance. As I kissed him good-bye, he said, "I love you Bessie." Those were the last words he ever said. That night he joined his love.

    1. That story about your grandfather... as well as his beautiful romance with your grandmother... touched me profoundly. What a beautiful thing to share, especially how he would supposedly come out for 2 weeks but actually stay for months on end :) Thank you thank you for sharing this.... just beautiful