Lilacs

Today I went out to the backyard and picked a handful of lilacs.

I put them in one of our short glasses and set them on my nightstand, then went about my business. A little while later I walked into my bedroom to put something away and the room was awash in the the fragrance of that little bunch of lilacs.

Isn't it funny how something like a flower can be a sort of connecting force in your life? I remember there were lilac bushes that separated our front yard from our neighbor's in Payson. Every spring the lilacs were in bloom and the aroma filled the air. It surrounded everything and became connected to those memories. Those were such fun, carefree times. We would spend all summer playing Annie-I-over with the Birds and the Mays. The sun would go down and we'd play Ghost in the Graveyard. We were completely consumed with what was going on in that little neighborhood. Who was allowed to come out to play and who wasn't. Whose chores or homework wasn't done. As we got older we worried less about the games and more about who had a crush on who. I would spend long hours sitting against the chainlink fence we shared with the Bird family. Ryan was a year older than me and we would ponder the mysteries of the Universe. Life was full of perceived drama and intrigue. I realize now how sheltered and simple our lives were. We had no idea of the tragedies and actual stresses of the world. I want nothing more than to give that to my children. I don't want them to have to wrestle with reality. I want them to run and play and be filthy at the end of the day.

Maybe I planted that lilac bush because I'm trying to recreate that for them. Give them a childhood like the ones my parents gave me. Can that still be done?

Two years ago my father passed away.

We were saying goodbye to him and spending his last hours on this earth reassuring him of our love for him and our confidence that he would finally be free from the prison his body had become. Somebody brought in a vase full of fresh cut lilacs and it felt to me that all the happiness of our lives together was embodied by those flowers. They surrounded us and reminded us of all that we had lived and all that we believe. I began to understand what they mean when they say that something "fulfills the measure of its creation". I felt comforted and supported by their presence in the room.

I believe in my heart that my father felt the same way.