A pink hyacinth?
Cindy on April 13th, 2009
There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another …. we find comfort somewhere.” – Jane Austen
Spring takes its own sweet time getting to Michigan. Azaleas and roses were in bloom during our visit to Pasadena earlier this month, but here in Royal Oak, our spring bulbs are just beginning to stir. (I’m reminded of teenagers who sleep in very late — long after everyone else has dressed and gone to work.)
Three years ago, we planted several plots of tulips and daffodils around the yard. Watching them open each spring is one of those corny simple pleasures I include on my gratitude list. Once they’re in full bloom, I witness their cheerful riot of Crayola red and yellow from my home office windows. At this point, though, there’s little to see but a few determined green leaves pushing through the soil. And one odd pink hyacinth.
I noticed the random hyacinth this morning after my son drove off to the airport to return to his assignment in Mexico. He’d spent Easter weekend with his dad and me, and we enjoyed our all-too-brief family visit. Ever since my son graduated from college last May, I’ve been floating in a liminal place where I’m learning how to be a long-distance mom while stretching my own wings. Like my son, I’m rediscovering where I fit in the world; where I’m needed most.
I didn’t plant that pink hyacinth — and have absolutely no idea how it found itself in the circle of daffodils at the base of our redbud tree. But I’m always open to new surprises. – Cindy La Ferle
April 13th, 2009 at 9:36 am
“Learning how to be a long-distance mom while stretching my wings.” That sums it up beautifully.
Every stage of motherhood brings its gifts and challenges. We are blessed with independent children making their way in the world. We are challenged by this blessing — how much advice is too much? How do we reconcile our wishes for them vs. their [adult] choices? How do we balance stretching our wings far enough for our own newfound independence but not so far that it impinges on our children’s?
Still working on that one and figure it is, as is all of motherhood, a lifelong process.
April 13th, 2009 at 11:08 am
Wise words, as always, Debra — thanks so much! –CL
April 13th, 2009 at 11:15 am
You didn’t plant the pink hyacinth, but it found you. So symbolic, I think, of the surprises that await us as we turn onto different paths of life. Glad you had a nice weekend!
April 14th, 2009 at 2:50 am
It’s amazing to see how many of us seem to be doing this this “floating” thing … people from all walks of life, leaving one way of living and entering on a new path. To me it feels like pushing off from one foot before the other one has been set down … in “mid-leap”, so to speak. (Or mid-flight?)
April 14th, 2009 at 6:57 am
Hyacinths are funny that way! Perhaps a gift from a bird or squirrel in exchange for one of your daffys? I’m glad that you had a visit with your son- I can’t imagine what it must be like to have your child move away! I want mine forever, sigh….
April 14th, 2009 at 8:33 am
Everyone seems to think that a squirrel pooped out the random hyacinth bulb … I still love the serendipity of the whole thing!
Kitty, I think the “floating” between stages is part and parcel of midlife, don’t you? It’s a process of discovery, which can be fun but also frustrating or painful at times.
Starrlife, the empty nest takes some adjusting to. I’m fine with it now, but it took a while to feel at home in myself again. I am glad my son is off doing what he needs to do now, especially since the economy is so bad here in Michigan. But yeah, sometimes I do miss the younger energy around the house. When my son is home for holiday visits, a lot of his friends from school are here too. I love that. — Cindy La Ferle
April 14th, 2009 at 11:44 am
We will be heading back to MI from Fl next week and I am looking forward to what might be peeking out from my garden at home. (Though we are in northern Mi so likely not much will be up yet.)
Your pink hyacinth is such a treat. So symbolic of how life can deliver unexpected delights. I planted many new perennials last fall and don’t remember what I planted or where–so my garden may be full of surprises too.
April 14th, 2009 at 10:30 pm
Ha. Debra and I zoned in on the same line:
“I’ve been floating in a liminal place where I’m learning how to be a long-distance mom while stretching my own wings.”
You can tell we’re writers!
Lovely. Spring always brings a feeling of bittersweet for me. I’ve not yet really felt it. It comes more toward May with the warmer weather and flowering trees.
April 15th, 2009 at 3:50 am
It’s definitely an adventure. I feel alternately exhilarated, exhausted, contented, sad, afraid, strong, vulnerable, curious, and frustrated. Certainly can’t say I’m bored, though.
April 16th, 2009 at 2:46 pm
Cindy, I love your story of the unexpected hyacinth. It says a lot. A lot of our daffodils didn’t come up this year, and some of our crocuses were eaten after they peeked through the dirt. But I hope someone else on our block got a similar surprise as you!