I wasn’t really thinking about it until I saw the primroses blooming in the garden. I’m not usually good about remembering dates of important events. I always have to check the inside of my wedding ring, where the day and year Jon and I were married is etched, to remember how many years it’s been and that it was the 12th not the 1oth of June.
I know now it’s the primroses that will always remind me of the days leading up to Jon’s Open Heart surgery. Jon was in the hospital for about 5 days before the surgery actually happened. I brought him flowers from our garden in a ball jar, put them on his window sill and some at the nurses station. There were a few women, from Romania, who did the thankless work of collecting the laundry and dirty food trays, who noticed the primroses. One woman told me that her neighbors had primroses but they wouldn’t give her any. I only had a few in my garden, but I know they grow like weeds, a generous flower or domineering one depending on how you see it. So I dug a few up and left them for her.
So that’s where my mind goes when I see primroses blooming, the few in my garden or the huge beds in someone else’s. Right to Jon’s hospital room. And, lucky me, I get to smile, because it all turned out so well.
And now, today, on the actual anniversary of Jon’s surgery, I keep finding myself crying. It’s a mix of emotions I’m feeling. The memories, not in words or pictures, but feelings flood my body. And then it’s like I’m hit with a wave of “grateful”. And I can’t help myself, I just go to Jon, where ever he is and hug and kiss him. Touch his face, my hands in his hands, my skin to his, grateful that he’s live and we’re together. Hyper aware that it could have been so different.
It’s overcast and rainy today, gray, soft and sleepy. I feel the same. I have no hard edges, I’m round and soft, gentle, open and loving. As if my heart is taking up space in my whole body, flowing through my arm into my fingers and down my legs to my toes, a heart crown on the top of my head. And I’m made light with gratefulness.