This past week I’ve been recalling some of the “best of” memories I’ve had with you. One of my favorites is when we planted trumpet vines in the backyard and ran wires along the back wall for the vines to grow.
You were so enthralled with how to “train the vines” that you spent hours with me gently weaving the new sprouts through the wires to guide their growth.
You soon learned that I speak openly to all living things, and you found that quite interesting as well. I suggested that you welcome the new plants and let them know how happy we are that they will be growing all around us. And you did… Of course, when you returned from your mom’s the next weekend, you told me that she thinks I’m weird.
And I am totally cool with that – Weird is good. Normal is, well, dull as S%*$
It took me a long time to embrace my naturally silly-self. I used to take everything personally and cared way too much what other’s thought. So to hear your mom’s proclamation that I was weird was sheer joy to my ears. It meant that I am true to myself – Talking to plants is a joyfully connective experience for me.
It also meant that your mom didn’t consider me any type of “threat” – Which I hoped would make life a little easier for you as mom learned that Dad was dating.
A few more of my favorite memories…
- Our matching hot pink swimsuits and hosting a “float day” cramming all the inflatable pool animals in the swimming pool
- Doing nature obstacle courses in matching (there’s a theme here) tie-die shirts while glamping in the woods
- Snuggling up to watch The Good Witch (or whatever magical show we could find) every night before bed
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