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A Million Dozen Perfect Roses


This rose is a part of a bouquet that I received yesterday.
Brought over by a friend. 
“We are putting the house up for sale, you know, next week. We needed flowers for photos. But now that the photos are taken, I thought you might enjoy these flowers. So I brought them…as a congratulations for your successful April Fools day yesterday,” she said. 

But we both knew it wasn’t in celebration of my pranks. 

It was because soon, when these friends move across the country, she won’t be able to stop over on a lazy Sunday morning to say hi anymore. 
We won’t be able to meet on a trail and let the dogs run together as we talk about manuscripts and grown kids and life. 
We won’t gather on a Saturday for a bonfire or game night. Run into each other in the grocery store. Or spend the day at a book store in quietness, just appreciating good literature and each other’s company. 
I think the flowers she brought me was a reminder of what a good thing we had- small town friends who in their own right-became also family. Of these gentle and genuine dear connections that lived just a few minutes away from me for 25 years. That I could consistently  count on to add beauty to my life. 

“Some of these flowers are wilting already,” she said, as she ended her visit, and I tried not to let the sharp edges of sadness about her move, overtake the moment.  “They might need more water.”  I felt, as she drove away and I filled up the vase-as my eyes filled up too,  how everything that is precious-needs to be held close to the heart as a sacred blessing. Because the beauty of exquisite things-won’t last forever. 

I know we will stay close, of course. I’ll visit their new home. We’ll zoom and face time  and text. And I will be thrilled for them-on every step of their new adventure. 
But I won’t ever again be sitting in my kitchen, hear a knock, my dogs wagging their tails exuberantly  because they recognize who it is. 
It won’t be this friend. 
And these seemingly run-of the mill moments that make up the most precious of memories…will be over. 
I’ll miss that. 
I’ll miss her.
As I cherish a friendship that means more to me than a million dozen perfect roses. 

Live Your Light


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