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I knew this day would come, but I didn't expect it on a day when I felt refreshed and happy. I expected more notice, more notice so I could prepare and not be affected. It was not to be. The emotions that over took my inner depths reeled me into despair. I felt stupid, and silly but could not help the waves from crashing. As I began to panic more and more I felt worse and worse. I could not keep the feelings, and the thoughts of 50 years from flooding my heart. So, I just went with them. I went with them so I could let them go....and after I let them go I would be able to pick myself up and decide what to do from here on......
I thought about calling my daughter first, and then my son. Maybe I should call my son first? Then I would have to call my husband.....but I had just made a promise to him. I promised to send him to work the next day with a gift for a customer. Do I take that back or do I honor it? I know in my heart I don't want to honor it, but it is the right thing I made a promise....but if I honor the promise I will lose what is so important to me......I begin to cry more.
As I peer out into the kitchen and through the window, that is aligned with my back door, I see pink! I am confused at first and then quickly realize I am seeing roses. How appropos. Beautiful Pink Roses.
My mind is whirring and spinning with thoughts of the reality that someone has sent them to me, but I have a hope and a prayer that they are a message from someone far greater, letting me know that all is fine. After all, in the scheme of things this to do is so unimportant. As I write this I do not know what the roses are for, or from whom they were sent. I can guess, but why would I be getting roses? The timing was MORE significant to me for right now, and I thought sometimes you just need an angel. I am pretending that is what they are all about, of course I will know what it is really about after I post this story...but for now I need to pretend.
Okay, I am sorry and apologize for concerning you with this saga, and now I must confess why I am in such a state. You will probably hate me and think I am an absolute idiot but, it is me and that is what my blog is all about. It is about the inner workings of a 50+ mature woman who at the moment isn't very mature.....so this is my confession.
My childhood was awesome and full of scrapes and cuts. Each one tenderly administered to by my mother or father. I once got run over by a bicycle and yet the soothing salve that my mom put on all the scraped burns made me feel just fine. Over time that salve came to my home when I was a new bride and it heeled the burns from learning to cook, and soothed my new husbands blisters from raking. As my children grew up they became familiar to it's odor, and were immediately relieved when their cuts were treated in the same loving way, as mine had been when I was young. My grandchildren now ask all of us.... mom, dad, nunnie and papa for "tundia and bambaid" whenever they are hurt. We all look at each other with connected smiles, because we know the tradition has passed to another generation!
Today that has all come to an end......Obtundia is no where to be found! Otis Clapp had been sold in 2008 without fanfare, or even notice for us to stock up! The new owners Medique, have discontinued the production of what was a vital thread in our family's quilt, without a care of knowing the reprecussions of what that would mean to us.
I now have to make the phone calls to my family. We will all take care when using our last tube of obtundia remembering all the times before, when all of our lives from four generations were interconnected. Who would have ever thought that one small product would be so instrumental in our lives. Who would have thought I would feel this way.
As for the flowers? Well they were from my husband, he is my angel , and it was he who sent me the beautiful flowers....what perfect timing!