When I was a little girl, living on our family farm in Upper Michigan, I used to spend much of my summer days, gathering wild flowers for mom's table. She had so many boquets around, I think perhaps it was annoying, but she never scolded.
Our farm was situated amidst the hills and woods and there was a large meadow laden with summer's daisies and Indian paint brushes. Daisies have a tough stem when you pick them by hand, and are hard on the fingers after so many. Because they were so plentiful, I would keep on picking trying to gather every pretty one. But of course, that would be impossible, like trying to catch every raindrop that falls.
There were purple violets with long stems, yellow cowslips in the marshes, may flowers, dutchmens britches and so many more, always waiting to be gathered and placed in a glass on the kitchen table for my mom. It was fun.
When we are children, we see the world so innocently and with a sense of wonder and joy. So often with the passing of time and life, we lose that childlike quality and abandon it for grown up views. Oh, it is there hidden within us, but tucked away and hidden among all the other hidden albums in our life. I refer to albums, because lately, I have been working at finding photos in my computer to transport to chosen places. It takes time and searching, but eventually the lost is sure be found.
As women, we go through so many phases of our lives, experiencing love, joy, pain, sorrow and eventually the process of coming to terms with who we really are. For years, we are wives, mothers, caregivers, grandmas and a multitude of many roles, but when the dust settles and we are alone with our awareness of our mortality, we begin to reevaluate ourselves. We search for that younger, more enthused and lively person within us. We want to be free to be the person we were meant to be and it does not happen to every woman but to many.
We want to gather more of those many wildflowers that are so plentiful. We want to feel special and loved by somebody else but we also want to love ourselves. Love is what makes everybody special. It is the magical golden thread that binds us all together as one. Where love lives, it is like that never ending field of daisies. It is endless and beautiful and to be treasured.
Dance among the daisies and sing a song of life, dear friends.
