Monday, October 10, 2011

Stopping for Roses


We went television shopping {and buying} yesterday. In essence, it meant dropping a large sum of money and spending four hours in the car. The latter is due to the fact that we overestimated the capacity of my midsize sedan and underestimated the size of a 55-inch television box. The nearest *big box* electronics store is approximately a 50-minute drive from our rural locale---and we made two round trips because the television box didn't fit in my trunk.

Spending all that time in the car was frustrating and meant that we didn't have our typical Sunday filled with around-the-house-accomplishment and cleaning. Well, unless rearranging our living room and installing a television counts toward a sense of accomplishing anything. The house was a wreck anyway, which always drives me into a state of anxiousness; I truly despise clutter with every shred of my being. But like everything else, things found a way to their proper home and all was right again in our little corner of the world.

After an early dinner and a walk with the dogs, I headed into the basement to work out. Fifty minutes later, I returned upstairs to find that my husband had cleaned, cooked, canned tomatoes and gathered roses--from my amazing double knockout rose bush -- and placed them all over the house. They are breathtaking.



I realized something, in that moment: I had forgotten about the roses. I had once fawned over them, admired their resiliency. Then, I forgot about them entirely. As I leaned over to take in their fragrence, and he said:

"They were too beautiful not to notice."

He was right: they were. But somehow along the way, I had stopped noticing. I had forgotten to take stock of my surroundings in my haste to clean up the clutter and make sure everything looked perfect. It was as though I had become some sort of strange walking oximoron. I was literally not stopping to smell my own roses. It was nice to know there is someone in my life who notices when I stop noticing things--and gives me a gentle reminder.



Maybe there are other things I have stopped noticing in my haste to live my life, do my job, and be the best version of myself--I just don't know.

What I do know is this: there's always time for roses.

1 comment:

Susan said...

They are beautiful!
I understand though. Sometimes life can get so hard. We can get so caught up. We forget to smell the roses.
Hang in there ~ I'm all caught up and thinking of you.
xo

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