When spring came to Nashville, I brought them outside for the unfiltered sunshine and fresh air. They were happy. Buds started to form. The almost neon green of the new leaves forming on the branches complimented the red and brown of the brick wall they stood near. I was happy to see them happy. I went off to California for the weekend to surprise Brother for his 40th and BLAM - two beautiful warm days in a row were followed by a massive drop in temperature and an ice snowstorm and my hibiscus were dead.
But I’m me. I’m female and I refuse to let things die – or admit to myself that something is dead. How many relationships have I held onto thinking, “But wait, he might change? He might stop being an asshole and become the person he was when we first started dating. I should stay instead of walking away?” How many jobs have I put up with thinking that the asshole of a boss will quit or get fired or die a horrible death? How many times have I just hobbled alone hoping my back will just heal itself and I’ll be like new again? How many fights have I had with Husband where he said something insulting or he was absolutely and totally wrong that I will bring up with him till the end of time?
Yeah, I refuse to let things die.
And that is why the Hibiscus currently sits on my porch step, all tall sticks with dead wrinkled, crispy leaves dangling off their brittle branch stumps, a testament to my female hope that they will come back.
This morning I decided I’d mourned their loss enough and I was going to pull them out of the pots and relegate their bodies to the mulch pile but then I saw this –
That and one day, Husband might actually admit I was right – that I am right!
Little victories like these make ej a happy girl. If you can call being too lazy to throw out a plant a month ago a victory... like I totally am. This is going in the ‘Win' column. Yea for me and for blind stupidity - I mean, hope. Yea for hope!