The Pressed Roses

Somewhere in one of my books, probably in a box, is an old pressed rose.  Maybe two pressed roses.  They are from Damon and I saved them all this time.  I wonder how many people still press a flower in a book for sentimental reasons.  I also have an old scrapbook with a pressed boutonniere, and small corsage from a time of promise and possibilities.  A time when everything was new and the possibilities for the future were endless.

I suddenly wish I could see it, and gently rub my finger across the weathered, dry petals.  That velvety smoothness of days long ago now, that seem like yesterday or maybe the day before.  

I'm not living in the past.  I'm longing for the happiness those days brought me.  I'm no longer longing for people and things unattainable, but for the joy of that era.  I long for love and happiness.  I long for a peace of just knowing there's someone and something I can count on just being.  That source of joy.  I no longer know that, though I have known it well in my lifetime.

I think perhaps I will throw up at another comment that God is always here, and I can look to eternal life and peace through death.  I say this because in reality I am alive.  I am truly alive and I truly love life in the flesh of my existence on Earth.  I look around everyday for a source of joy to my existence .  Even in the little things.  I refuse to believe that God created us to suffer through our time on Earth with only the longing for the end.  We were meant to draw joy and beauty from our life on Earth.  

I suppose we would not know such beauty if we did not know deep sorrow.  I suppose there would be no comparison to know the difference between light and darkness, or hope and despair.  The dark hole of despair is such a far cry from the joy of life's sunshine, hopes and possibilities.  

Today, for just a brief moment, I felt swallowed in darkness.  It was as if all possibilities were drained for just a brief moment.  Then, I stretched out at the end of my day.  I felt the soft purring of my cat as he nestled close by.  I looked around at the comfort of my small space I created and felt the hope of possibilities, and the happiness of just being.


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