“I fell two-and-a-half-weeks ago.” – Daniel Madewell
Forget Me Not
“I fell two-and-a-half-weeks ago,” Daniel’s text message flashed on the screen. “Still healing and rehabbing at this facility.”
There was a link for the address of the long-term care facility. So, I clicked the link to see how close it was. It wasn’t very far, about ten to fifteen minutes by car. I studied my calendar to see when I could work a visit into my already-crowded schedule.
Of course, as soon as I wedged a visit to Daniel into my datebook, the rest of the seemingly-expanding appointments shoved the just-scheduled-visit down the plan as if on automatic. Until I opened a desk drawer.
While shuffling some things around in the now open drawer to find what I was looking for, a packet of seeds stung my eyes. The seed
packet was filled with kernels of Forget Me Not flowers. The bright color of emotion-tugging-flowers, mostly covering the envelope, arrested my eyes immediately.
Forget Me Not flowers carry a deep message of love, remembrance, and enduring connection with them. Its delicate petals, often adorned with tiny blue flowers and occasionally pink flowers,
whisper a timeless plea: "forget me not." These bright and joyful flowers symbolize a longing to be cherished and remembered, making them a long enduring emblem of affection.
Whether found in a garden, wild meadow, or as seeds enveloped in a drawer, Forget Me Nots serve as a poignant reminder of true love, memories shared, and the bonds that tie us to
those we hold dear. This flower transcends its physical beauty. It has inspired poets, gardeners, and now it was encouraging one friend to visit another. So, I pushed my friend Daniel to the top of my calendar and made the drive to visit him.
I knocked tentatively on the open door to his room as soon as I arrived, while barely pausing entry. After all,
I could hear the mechanical-befriending-TV whispering its dulling charm in the background.
“Let me turn the TV off,” Daniel said as his eyes brightened immediately upon seeing me. “It is what you deserve. I’ve missed you.”
I didn’t know until that moment how much I’d missed him, as I returned his expression to inaugurate our visit. The rest of our time together was spent discussing his tale of falling unexpectedly while teaching children in a local elementary school. Of how the worried children in his classroom fetched the school nurse to come to his aid. And, how his now shattered femur was heeling. That was all important, but it was not the most important thing we shared.
The most significant part of our time together was pentimento, a visible trace of earlier painting beneath a layer of paint on the canvas of our current visit. It was wonderful to have the depth of our history together revealed and coalesced as one Forget Me Not painting.
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