Last night, I stayed up until two a.m., reading. I had the remnants of a migraine, and though I know that seems counter-intuitive, one of the few things I can do when I have a migraine is read.
I went to buy groceries in the early evening, which was a bit of a struggle, but while I was there, I suddenly knew that I needed a book. One that I could read all in one night, one that would transport me.
And so, The Language of Flowers jumped right off the shelf in my direction, sounding right up my alley with its main theme of flowers and their Victorian-era meanings. And love.
And in the end, forgiveness.
I came home and arranged myself on the couch with a plate of fruit and cheese for dinner, and let myself be drawn into the story. My husband came home from golf and I said hello, but not much else.
I had, as my mom always used to say, my “nose in a book.” Really, it was usually more like, “Get your nose out of that book and set the table.” Sigh. Just one more page…
My husband turned a baseball game on, I never even looked up to see who was playing or ask who was winning, and a few minutes later, he was asleep in his chair. This is the way of things in our house, he gets up everyday at 2:30 a.m., so by 8:30, he is usually snoring.
I only moved to lower the volume on the game, choosing not to turn it off, it seemed just right as background music. And then a bit later, I stopped reading to let the dog out and smile at the fireflies dancing in the yard.
At midnight, I got myself ready for bed, with 100 pages left to go. And then it was time to decide if I would keep reading. I knew that if I continued on, I would read through to the end. I knew that I probably shouldn’t, that I had to get up early and get work done, that I’m not a teenager anymore, that summers can’t be spent as if I have nothing to do.
At around 2:00 a.m., I finished the book. It made me cry.
I turned out the light and watched fireflies out the window for a bit.
And now this morning, of course, I am exhausted. But it was worth it. A good book is always worth it, and feeling, just for a night, that it is summer and I can stay up late and do whatever I want, even if that includes dancing with fireflies in my dreams…. that was just what I needed.
My life is changing this summer, as it does every season, but this year, it is different. I gave myself the gift of time, giving up our summer jewelry shows because I missed my garden, missed my reading, missed having time to notice the fireflies.
It was a hard decision, a risky decision, an “I’m not at all sure this is the right thing to do” decision. But last night, I was very, very sure.
Sometimes you have to give up the things that aren’t working.
Sometimes you have to pull the weeds that have crept into your life to make room for the flowers.
And sometimes, you have to stop everything and just sit for a moment, enjoying the view.