I’ve never been a flowers kind of girl. I’m more of a books and gadgets kind of girl. When Anthony and I were younger, most anniversaries were celebrated with books but lack of space and an inability to let go of books, even the old, tattered ones, have made the Kindle an absolutely necessity. When it comes to gadgets, he can give me anything that works with the kitchen or for cleaning, and he won’t hear a complaint from me. Still, Nintendo handheld gaming consoles win hands down. I’m easy that way. 😊
Flowers remind me that on our second year as boyfriend and girlfriend, Anthony gave me a flower every day. Yes, a single flower every day for one year. When he had a little money in his pocket, he’d splurge on a pink rose wrapped in frilly pink paper and gauze ribbons. And when he was scraping by, he’d find a small wild flower to bring to me. He would slip it between the pages of his letters which he often hand-delivered very early in the morning. I would wake up to a letter and a small flower in my mailbox and that kind of romantic thrill would carry me throughout the day.
When we got married, he gave me flowers for many occasions until Alphonse discovered that shredding them into confetti was as magical as water that dances between his fingers. When you’re an autism parent, nothing brings you back to reality than having your child shred a bouquet of Ecuadorian long-stemmed roses right before your very eyes. All that, gone in a blink of an eye. And that was when we decided that flowers were easily superfluous manifestations of a relationship that really didn’t need it. So that was that.
It’s been a number of years since I last received flowers. And it’s not like I miss them. I like looking at them from afar or from friends’ Facebook photographs. I’m not one to ask for them, really. Or maybe I did, when I commented on a friend’s birthday bouquet? Despite my seeming indifference to flowers, last night, when I was handed a totally unexpected bouquet, I was speechless. In truth, I had forgotten how absolutely beautiful they are.
More than the flowers, however, I love how Anthony always keeps me on my toes. I love how he pulls out all the stops to make each day memorable for me, Mother’s Day or not. In the middle of long days when he’s at the office and I am home with the boys, I would receive a delivery of a cup of cold brew from him because he knows coffee helps me breathe through stressful days. Last week, it was a Subway sandwich on a Tuesday morning. Two weeks ago, it was a Panda Express meal on a sizzling Wednesday. Things I love. Things that remind him of me.
Last night, he got the flowers, he explained, because as he passed by the Japanese grocery to pick up some grocery items, he spotted them at the flower shop next door and they reminded him of me. Because they were pink.
I’ve never been a flowers kind of girl. But for you, Anthony, I’m willing to make an exception. ❤️