Is it a weed, or a wish?

Golden moment #47

Somewhere, deep below the ocean waves there is a submarine. Somewhere on that submarine is my husband.

The day he hugged our son goodbye, walked out the front door, and  waved to us as he drove away to board his boat, something terrible happened, I blew him a kiss. "That's not terrible! You may think, but I accidentally threw him more than a kiss on that breath, with that kiss all of my happy, inspiring, golden moments seemed to fly off. Laughter, perspective, and joy, all raced after that kiss  and threatened never to come back, until he did.

And I have been sad. Really, really, sad this patrol. More so than other patrols. I ran away to my parents house and haven't had the courage to step foot back into our quiet home again while he is gone. And I haven't written a golden moment, because my life sort of felt like lead. Sometimes life feels like that. Then, once again, something happened. Josh must have blown me a secret kiss back, from deep beneath the sea, and by some miraculous feat of triumph that kiss landed softly at the corner of my eye. But it wasn't just a kiss, perspective decided she'd been away from me long enough and caught a ride with that kiss from deep beneath the sea. I felt her presence at once when I looked down and saw a weed growing in the grass.

"Oh, but is it really just a weed?" Perspective coaxed.

"I think it's just a weed, look at those seeds on that old dandelion, soon the wind will blow carrying them all over filling yards and gardens with unwanted dandelions."

"Unwanted by who?" Perspective questioned.

"I don't know, the people who have to pull them up to keep their yards looking decent."

"So dandelions make yards look indecent?" Perspective asked.

"To some people, like me. Maybe not to Scotty, Scotty can't get enough of dandelions, especially when they go to seed like this one, he calls them "wish flowers.'" I smiled.

"How did your son learn to call a weed a "wish flower?" Perspective was curious.

"I told him they are wish flowers, when I was a girl, I'd pick the dandelions in this stage and blow off all the seeds, if you make a wish on the flower it will come true..."

I picked up the little flower and held it in my hand. Then took a deep breath and blew a wish. The wind scattered the flower like confetti and dropped the little parachute seeds back to the earth. I giggled and my heart felt a spark of childlike joy, they'd tagged along with perspective on her flight home. As I stared at the long empty stem in my hand it occurred to me they'd never really left. 

My wish flower

to see through

teary eyes

to sing

at deep blue skies

to loose myself 

in love

to find myself

in love

to stand on lonely ground

to stand amid a crowd

to clap my hands

to stomp my feet

to rage

to storm

to call retreat

a hug hello

a last goodbye

a boisterous laugh 

a heavy sigh

to blow a kiss

where it is sought

and have it reach 

where I can not

I take a breath

and all of this,

escapes my soul

on a flower wish.

Photo Copy right Heidi Nickerson