Winter cleaning … no excuses to run away outside when you get tired of it. And when you have some ADD like I do, l move from one box to another when frustration threatens to derail me completely. It’s decision overload that wears me down, and people who say, “Just make a decision!” don’t get that. We truly are wired differently … and each of has us a fuse-blowing point.

My point neared its edge Monday when I could handle only one more box. Inside this assortment of memories was a dried rose … the first long stem single rose Roger had given me when we dated. Digging deeper, I found the original florist box that contained the first corsage he had given me, a dark red ribbon still holding it together. Our first dance!

What should I do with it? I suddenly wasn’t on autopilot to move it to another box to face again another day.

I thought of the pressed flowers in my mom’s first photo album … safely stored with a dozen more on my shelf and how it bowed from all those once vibrant buds that adorned her high school dresses. All those beaus she danced the night away with. She was quite popular by looking at all the photos, too.

I laughed. I HAD to be different. I married the only boy I ever dated. Mom expressed her disappointment at times that I didn’t date more so I was sure before marrying Roger. I laugh even more because her marriage to Dad only lasted 24 years and I’m at 42 years and counting with the love of my life.

As my ADD kicked in, I moved to scanning more of my cousin’s photos that I had brought back after moving him back to the Midwest from California. I had condensed four big tubs into one after removing photos from albums to save space. I would scan them one day …

This past week has been that day … and I’ve been uploading hundreds of images for him to enjoy. Plus I had all his dad’s old family photos, including an old black paper photo album of decades ago with the black corners holding images in place. This belonged to my cousin’s grandma whom I loved dearly and bonded with more than my own grandmothers.

As I turned one page yesterday, I discovered that she, too, had preserved a corsage from many years ago. I don’t know the occasion as nothing was written on the facing pages where the flowers and ribbon were not attached.

I glanced out my kitchen window at the drabness of winter and knew that all these flowers that had been gifts to Mom, my cousin’s grandma and me … they had done their duty by prompting smiles, delivering heavenly scents, brightening attire … and witnessing many kisses …

And I knew it would be safe to scatter these memories to the wind … It was time to return them to Mother Nature so that they can be part of a foundation for new life. And little snippets from the ribbons can fill a small clear bottle that has been awaiting a special purpose.

The blossoms that were once full, then flattened … now they must fly again and bring new joy to someone else. It makes spring more exciting because it’s all the circle of life …. and I marvel that I’m part of it ….

Hey, drop me a line at [email protected] or leave a comment below. I’d love to speak to your group, organization or company about working our way through the pain and challenges of everyday life. You want straight talk? You got me!