Lilac Love

The lilac bushes are blooming. Yesterday with the slight breeze, I could smell them walking down the street. I picked a branch off a bush I found this afternoon.  This makes me incredibly happy. Aleah would say I have childhood romantic ideals with lilacs. And with violets. And dandelions. Aleah loves flowers. I think for awhile I forgot that I love flowers. She's good at reminding me of things I love. Friends do that.

I think she's right. These flowers are my favorites. I don't care if two of them are considered weeds. When I was little, I was convinced my mom's favorite flowers were dandelions. She let us pick new ones for the kitchen table every day--obviously they were her favorites. Finding violets in our yard was always exciting; they were few and far between, so finding one was like finding a treasure. Our driveway at home is lined with lilac bushes. Grandma's house has three giant lilac bushes in her yard. I love lilacs. They smell like spring.

They remind me of home. That's a good thing to be reminded of, especially when sometimes I don't feel like I need to go home. Sorry for that, Mom and Dad. I just don't need home like I used to. I need the reminder of home, the constant that it provides as I go on my moon journeys, but I no longer need to be there to be me.

Part of growing up, part of living, is being content where you are. Finding joy at wherever you find yourself. Being okay right now, wherever God has put you. Sometimes that's a childhood home, sometimes it's college, sometimes it is walking down the street and smelling lilacs on the breeze. We have our seasons, like the lilacs. Where we were okay last year may not be where we're okay this year. Growth is a part of life.

So until next time, grow, live, be okay, smell the lilacs.