A Fresh Breeze

I was talking to a friend of mine on Friday night.  She is the one who has had experience with alcohol addiction within her family.  I was telling her how things are going here.  She was surprised to hear that my daughter had started drinking, again.  As we were talking, I began to realize something.  I think it had been a pink elephant dancing around in front of me for a while now, though, I kept craning my neck to look around it.  (I can ignore a lot of stuff when I want to).  Anyway,  I have been there to support her when she has said, "If I go to rehab, that will work."  So she went, and it didn't work.  "If I get this dog I love, I'll stay sober."  Nope, didn't work.  I have been casually looking for a new job because we've talked about moving.  You know, a change of scenery; maybe that will help.  HELLO!!!  The pink elephant stopped dancing long enough to support my head in it's two front feet and forced me to look it straight in its eyes.  It's not all of the stuff that has to change, it's her thinking...SHE has to change and then everything thing else will seem different--better.  I told that to my friend, who is so kind and gentle that she allows me to come to these conclusions on my own, all the while she already knows.  And never once, does she criticize me or tally up how long it took me to finally come to my senses.  After I said that, the pink elephant winked at me and danced away.  I felt better.

So, today, I went to my dad's loaded down with flowers to plant.  Partly so that he makes time to get outside and water them, but mostly for my mom, because that's what she would have wanted.  It has been so much cooler here, today.  No stifling humidity.  There was a continuous breeze blowing.  It felt great.   I was focused on planting the pink begonias in this block planter on the front porch.  I was aware of the breeze, but thinking of how to position the flowers, when mixed in with the breeze, I smelled the scent of my mother.  Not her perfume, or the detergent she used, but her. The same smell that still lingers on the clothes in her closet.  It was so unexpected that I turned around expecting to see her; forgetting for a second that she's not here.  I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply; holding my breath to make it last as long as it could. And then it was gone. 

Crazy, huh?  But true.