Forget a dozen roses; the key to my heart is definitely lilacs. I've always associated the start of summer with lilacs. I live for them. I just realized a few days ago that they've started to bloom, and can only squeal with excitement every time we drive by them. Today, as Amanda and I were leaving the library parking lot after running some errands on campus, I made her stop her truck and I barrel rolled out to grab a branch off of a nearby lilac bush. I spent the rest of the ride back to Spinner just smelling it over and over again.
The other day I was walking to the gym, just after sunset. Winooski was humming with excitement, and I couldn't help but smile as the sounds of laughter and distant barbecues drifted by me. But suddenly, a scent caught me off guard. It was refreshing, lovely. It was familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. But as I continued my trek, the scent continued, growing stronger, surrounding me with spring. Finally, as I approached the door, I looked over the the adjacent house and there was a bush of freshly blooming lilacs. It was a happy moment. :)
They're usually the first things that remind me that summer is officially on its way. Sometimes, I consider them the unsung flower heroes of the summer. They come in quietly, most times go unnoticed and quietly pass. Many people don't give them a passing glance, grouping them with other common bushes and shrubbery. But there's something magical about the way they can stop you in your tracks, even if you can't see them. You can't help but breathe a little deeper, absorbing all they have to offer. Sometimes, you don't give it another thought but for that one moment, they gave you a little bit of extra life within you.
They've always held a special place in my heart, not only for their external appeal but for the way they trigger so many memories within me, and I tend to have a horrible memory unless something triggers it. Growing up, we always had a long row of lilacs that grew along the edge of our property. I can still vividly remember how I would spend my afternoons releasing my inner tom boy, ripping down branches and cutting out small holes within the bushes to create forts within the lilacs; but at the end of the day, I would simply sit there and inhale deeply, breathing in the beautiful scent and thinking fun girly thoughts.
I remember when they would first begin to bloom, I would run out into the yard and begin to carefully tear the little branches, creating bouquets of lilacs. I spent day after day grabbing as many bunches as my little hands could hold and running into the house and filling every tiny drinking cup I had with water and placing them the flowers all over the house. I can even still remember the time my parents let me have some in my room. I placed a small cup on the windowsill with a single lilac branch. Every night I would open the window a crack and let the breeze waft the scent over me as I drifted off to sleep.
Then, one spring, a man came along and offered to buy some of the lilacs for a wedding. My parents agreed, and I can remember watching in horror from my bedroom window as he began to chop and butcher the bushes, collecting bucket after bucket of lilacs. I almost cried that day, convinced that they'd never grow back. A little pathetic, but hey, I was still a kid. It still falls under the cute realm. :)
Lilacs remind me of proms and prom season; for two years I remember watching the prom at the high school, wishing I was one of the lucky upperclassmen attending. Then, finally being able to attend my junior and senior years. Prom was special to me. For 364 days of that year, I was a tom boy. I hunted, I fished, I scaled archery courses, wrangled kids at the day care, and rolled with the punches, being the only female in the house. But for that one day, those few hours, I was able to dress up. I put aside the camo, weapons, and potty mouth; I was a woman. I was never really allowed to play dress up as a kid, to buy girly stuff. But for this one night, I could mimic all the Disney princesses I'd grown up watching. It was one of the few nights in my entire life that I'd ever felt truly pretty. I liked the way people looked at me, the way my family looked at me. The smiles I received. The way I was treated. As minuscule as it was to some people, its something I embraced and still cherish to this day.
And with one smell, that small flower brings back every emotion and every feeling. It's times like this that I wish they grew year round. There are some days that completely drain me to the last drop of energy, of happiness. And with one breath of lilacs, I could flash back to pure, summer happiness. True, uninhibited happiness. It's been a very long time since I've felt that way since.
Lilacs remind me of summer; of longer, warmer evenings. They bring back memories of running through the grass barefooted; of swinging from the maple trees and picking off the newly blossoming leaves. They meant being able to leave the house without a jacket on when heading to the bus stop in the mornings and opening the windows for that first gentle breeze. They signified cookouts and bonfires, late night family gatherings that made the neighborhood ring with laughter. They were the flowers I picked when I went on walks in the woods with my dad for just some "us" time. They were the reason I went through a brief "flower shop owner" stint in my ever evolving career aspirations. Sometimes, they acted as reminders that my brother's birthday was approaching on May 20th. They even meant graveside visits to relatives as we created bouquets to decorate the graves. They were forts, picture backdrops, hideaways, and "bases" for every childhood game we could dream up; they were decorations, retreats,and inspirations. When they bloomed, everyone had a renewed sense of life deep within their eyes, within their souls as if a new energy swam around them. In a household that always had a dreary and heavy cloud of worries and problems hanging over it, for a brief moment, they brought about the one thing I always prayed for for my family--love.
And now, as I spend my first summer in Burlington, away from my family, they signify home.
Overall, they symbolized life, in every sense of the word. They were new life, a splash of color variety among a palette of greens. They were energizing, uplifting. A subtle scent of beauty. And no matter how long or damaging the winter months were, they continued to grow, year after year relentlessly. They proved that no matter what, life could prevail. Just when it seemed like the winter months had you at the tip of their sword, ready to suffocate you with their never ending despair and desolation, a revitalizing breath was waiting. Life continues on, even when you begin to feel it never will. You can't always see it, and sometimes you forget its there. But you'll always find it. That renewed life will be there waiting. And sometimes, all it takes is a distant drifting reminder. For you, it may be something else.
For me, it's the lilacs.
They're life, they're love, they're beauty; they're a reminder that through every tribulation, happiness is right around the corner. They're a renewed sense of hope.
Sometimes, it's small things like that that keep me going from day to day, finding those simple joys of life that I truly enjoy.
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