smelling the roses

We went out to "the venue" to take before homecoming dance pictures of the kids ... so sweet, and boy has the whole thing changed from when I was in High School ... think I was allergic to mums and glitter!  Now they dress up in what I call cocktail attire ... very lovely, hair and nails ... shoes!  The guys  wear bow ties  that match the girls dress or some pre-determined accent color. Boutonnieres and bouquets are exchanged (true corsages are entirely passé , though the occasional wrist flower thing may yet be seen) ... every one's parents show up, shaking hands, hugging ... remembering when ... laughing, tearing up a bit.  It's fun.  Well, I like it.  I would like it for the parade of high heeled shoes alone ... the joviality is a nice bonus!  Our kids chose several different back drops for their shots ... one on the 18th hole, and when they moved on this little flower had drifted from my girl's bouquet ... left behind on the tifdwarf.  So pretty.  I picked it up.

Spoke with my brother several times yesterday (business with his mom).  It is just great, huge really, to share a long life time of memories with people ... precious.  My kids were talking about their earliest memories and asked me to remember.  Mine centered around the birth of my little brother. Several days after that dinner conversation, I was still remembering our childhood together ... specifically a series of facial expressions, uniquely his, that arrange themselves in a quiet laugh and a smile.  His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly as some mischief presents itself (whispered I think by the "angel" on his left shoulder), then the tiny almost dampened smile asserts itself  across his face, an eyebrow rises ever so slightly, and his eyes spark amusement ... and he laughs right out loud.  He's been doing it all his life.  He came home from the hospital doing it.  I've seen it mean trouble more often then not, 'til he grew up (maybe just a couple of years ago).  Growing up around such easy charm, my brothers each had their own particular brand, has been interesting, both a blessing and a curse, like a lightsaber one's gotta learn how to wield it.  He told me last night about some kid that he is mentoring and he thanked me for always being the one very steady person in his life (he's maybe been a bit of a stinker a wayward time or two) ...  that's what sisters do.  I reach back in to the cradle of my memory and remember those tiny little fingers circling mine.

I'm thinking about how life moves along.  Exactly what I'm thinking about is how we have a tendency to take the good things in life for granted ... until suddenly, without any warning at all ... they are just gone. Did I enjoy them as well as I might have? Did I stop to be thankful?  He laughed last night when I thanked him for not accidentally folding his motorcycle up under some semi truck. He and I both know that those things happen though ... roses fall from bouquets unexpectedly, life is littered with wilted petals.  My brothers ... have taught me to appreciate the roses that life bestows ... .  Be thankful for them on the bush among the thorns, be thankful for them long-stemmed engineered  from some hothouse somewhere ... be thankful for them faded in a potpourri sachet.