….can be found not in face to face introductions but in looking around our space. Our home space.
What little things do we like to surround ourselves with daily? Little things that others might not think twice about or even ignore when they seem them but when we see them a smile begins. A seashell that’s chipped, worn down, or oddly shaped, but we love it because of what it represents in our memories. A honeymoon trip, a birthday party that will live in infamy. Something only we know but it matters.
It doesn’t have to all be indoor things either. Maybe there’s a tree in the backyard, planted years ago to celebrate the birth of your first child or in memory of your favorite pet. Now it’s taller than that child, or you or even the house. Now it shades you in a comforting way that brings the thought of that pet sheltering you, watching over you now.
Here at my business, there is a rose bush outside just beyond the flower beds. It’s nearly five feet tall now, though this is after I’ve cut it back a bit to fill out nicely. It was just a tiny little shoot above the dirt in a 4 inch pot in 2012 when my son gave it to me at the rehearsal dinner for his upcoming wedding. Now it’s blooming with wild abandon in the yard with brilliant red roses almost the entire year ’round! I see that bush and remember my son as a rose trying to look for that opportunity to take hold and thrive in a place he can call his own. Settle in, raise a family like the blooms that multiply over the years. With this I smile.
Moonflowers crawl across our front porch roof line and shine like beacons in the night every summer, drawing moths with a siren song only they know the words to. It’s beautiful to see those tightly wrapped blooms unfurl themselves every evening to dance on soft summer night breezes. Saucer sized blossoms pop up until as late as November if the season is mild and we’ve had a few of those since I came here in 2009. My husband had these pale beauties growing from a large bucket in the front of the porch to trail up the trellis when I first moved here and they’re still here, every year, shining brightly late into the night to remind us of our rediscovery of one another after 42 years apart. They are the light we leave on at night for one another, like a lighthouse to guide us home.
Keep the small things around you, remember those things that only you know about because in your home, your own space, that’s the memory that matters most. No one else really needs to know why this thingamabob is there, but it brings you joy, so it needs to be there.