The return of spring

I love decorating with flowers, especially during Easter...

It nudges out old memories the way a smell or a song can when they send you to a moment long ago. The last Easter with my brother Joe still appears years later, a sweet memory of him with bunches of flowers for all the girls. That lingering memory inspired my own offering of flowers at Easter. Soon picking up daffodils or tulips for all the girls became my undertaking in sweet remembrance of Joe.

Spilling from the decorative burlap bags, the flowers adorn our home with the spring colors still missing from outdoors. Slowly the daffodils remaining withered away so I placed them in the garage, with the  intentions of getting them planted to enjoy next year, but as a lot of intentions go, the next year came and went.

Another Easter came and went and the dried up bulbs sat quietly in our garage awaiting my attention. Finally with the fresh mulch of summer added, I decided it was time to plant these old bulbs and see if they would visit next year. Like the copious times things get buried in our minds, I had forgotten about the last seasons planting until our third Easter arrived.

With the days getting warmer and signs of spring evident, I began noticing spots of green poking through the ground. Witnessing the budding color after all the snow was such a delight, I anticipated their arrival with each day more colorful then before. Unfolding before me were the yellow blooms of the long forgotten daffodils I had planted. "They returned," I thought with a smile. No matter how long I neglected them, they returned as beautiful as I had remembered them to be. 

Their return reminded me of the beauty in life that restores us when we need it most. Small changes over a stretch of time,  often overlooked when we feel dark and alone. Slowly like the buds of spring, we begin again, unraveling, now conscious of the beauty within us as we bloom with the transformation we need to grow.