Zinnias remind me of simpler times. 

Both of my parents were pretty serious gardeners, grandparents too. You couldn’t make a visit to my dad’s parents and not leave with some jelly and “put up” veggies that young DeAnn had no clue how to use in the kitchen. I was good about returning the jars ... .

Zinnias. I have the vaguest memory of planning a zinnia seed as a child ... probably a school activity. Later, after I married, we planted a row of crepe myrtles,  5-7,  I can’t recall,  and zinnias seeds were scattered thickly underneath. They came in so dense that you couldn’t see the ground and we had colorful cut flowers enough to share. I like zinnias. 

We are just back from a road trip up to see Three and the first woman he has wanted us to meet. I have not been so immediately at ease with a person since before my childhood ended, when ever that was. The affinity was so natural that I didn’t even notice it happening. (Can you even believe it? In retrospect I’m amazed, delighted and about 10% alarmed. I wasn’t disarmed, the caution systems were completely on mute, that’s what’s weird.) What’s, maybe not even more remarkable, but kinda miraculous on its own, is that my husband instantly liked her too. If you knew him, you’d agree with my choice of “miraculous”. 

Most of the way south through New Mexico I thought about how he answered me when I asked him “do you know why you liked her?”  

He said,  “She is like you before ...”. That’s it, nothing after before. He can see a before and after, but not the after what. His prodigious skill set would have trouble selecting adjectives to describe what “like me” means even though he has studied me (approaching year of the ruby) with an intensity level that only those on spectrum can generate. Before what, before when ... I wondered. I didn’t follow up. 

I think we both noticed essentially the same thing.  He was remembering me at 20 something standing next to me at sixty something. The answer to before what is before life events, before when ... before when I became more cautious... before ... when I was so naive. Not that I’m all jaded now. I have been described as gullible, trusting would be another word. That’s harder for me now. But not as difficult as it has been ... I’m learning. 

Back even further back then my twenties. I sometimes remember myself way back when ... earliest versions of "before". 

Life is a process of transformational events, not all of them pleasant. 

(I like that we get to choose some of them.)

I wonder what life would be like if mankind were clothed by innocence. 

While out on this trip we spent sometime in conversation with a seventy something guy who said he was a SEAL before his time serving at the Pentagon. He just felt like chatting. His presenting “wound” seemed to be caused by an inability to protect “innocents”. I have the impression that he has seen stuff and ... the stillness that accompanies aging probably triggers PTSD. Life is easier when you can compartmentalize. 

These two YouTube videos/ Evian (pure water) ads came to me back to back today. 

. 

2020 may be remembered as the year “before” in the life of our country. The nostalgia for before is present in society at large. I see it creeping in along with a gradual awareness that lies are being perpetrated by people in positions perceived previously as positions of trust. What happens next? 

People seem to be getting in the mood to feel like victims in some of the places we visited between here and Denver ... in other places I saw a lot of "hell no".  Time will tell.

~zinnias snapped early today with my iPhone