A fitting metaphor, this vase of mine. It is empty, and dusty, and has been for more than a year. Excuse me, please, it isn't quite empty. It does hold, after all, the memory of flowers.
The vase was waiting patiently for me tonight, as it has done every night since I moved into the house. It is simple, plain clear glass, with curves that are just pleasant enough. The vase rests on top of combination bookshelf/television cabinet, which in turn is just across the room from the couch. In some lights, it almost disappears. Tonight I sat down on the couch and stared at it. It said nothing. Frankly, there are hours and days that pass where I do not so much as register its existence. It sits, quietly, and dreams of being filled with something beautiful, and wonderful.
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You are filled with something beautiful and wonderful, Gumbo! Your soul. You have the most beautiful soul I've ever seen. You ache for another beautiful soul to frolic with, but you are not empty. Not by a long shot. You're gonna make someone really happy someday. Hugs! :)
ReplyDeleteI partly agree with menopausediaries. You are filled with something wonderful and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteYou are also filled with pain, remorse, and a little bitterness. You're filled with care and duty. You're filled with observations about the world, and reasoned judgements. You're filled with frequent intelligence and occasional stupidity. You're filled with jokes and poems. You're filled, from time to time, with ice cream.
And just because life ain't always ice cream, doesn't mean it's empty. Love it the way it is...first. Then more love might just start pouring in.
It can be filled, Irish. Sometimes, you need to do the pouring.
ReplyDeletea heartfelt portrait of a melancholy moment. i admire it as a great piece of writing.
ReplyDeletenow, as to the real life behind it, go git yersef some flowers and put 'em in that vase. NOW! You are ordered to make it so. Honourable Husband has some wise words, there.
I had no idea that being in this other home would be so unsettling.
ReplyDeleteIt's the quiet.
The strange, strange, strange quiet.
go buy some flowers and fill 'er up....vases were not meant to lie empty and dusty....buying flowers for your self is one of the hallmarks that you are an adult....they are not just a gift given by someone else...they are a pleasure you give to yourself, or to your home :-)
ReplyDeleteI am sorry. It is hard to lose those who fill us up.
ReplyDeleteYou have beautiful words. Perhaps what you are looking for is someone to look at you and see the beauty you hold.
ReplyDelete*hugs*