The Beauty of the Unexpected

The Beauty of the Unexpected

We’ve had a brief return to summer this weekend, but a string of frosty nights had finished off the flowers for this season.  Or so I thought.  Apparently not even -7 C. was enough to stop one of my rose bushes from unexpectedly bursting into bloom again.  These out of season blooms are quite different in colour and formation from the usual on this bush, so they’re an unexpected delight in that sense, too.   It’s rather amusing to watch the double take that people do as they walk by that corner of the property.  I’ve even caught a few stopping for a deep sniff, and who can blame them?  The scent of a rose is a beautiful thing in June and July, but even more so when you thought that you were still many months away from having your nose hugged by rose petals again.

Speaking of the beautiful and unexpected, I received the nicest e-mail message today. Only a couple of people knew that I was back blogging as I wanted to really hit my stride again before I invited people in.  It was out there in search engines, though, and somebody stumbled on it, while searching for info on CFS.  I’ll let you remain anonymous as that’s your preference, but thank you so much for taking the time to compose your message.  What you said was exactly what I needed to hear.  I’ve really been struggling with how to approach the CFS subject now, and wondered if I actually should talk about it any more than I have in the past.  Being “broken” physically and/or mentally is pretty cool in some segments of the blogging world, and the writers of such blogs play the pity card for all it’s worth, which I find absolutely disgusting.   I absolutely never, ever, ever want to come across as being part of that group.  Pity feels like such an insult as I’m not pitiful, and I can’t imagine why anyone would enjoy being seen as pitiful.  All that I want to do by being more open and honest about how it affects my day to day life is to raise awareness, and to make those who have it feel less alone.   We all end up being very isolated just because of the nature of the illness itself, but also because of attitudes in society.  We all lose friends, family members get fed up, many lose their marriage, etc., and most of us end up withdrawing from people as a self-preservation measure.    On scary bad days, even the most self-sufficient of us needs to know that somebody else out there “gets it”.  Having said all of that, though, I don’t want to turn off my long-time blogging friends, or lose potential new ones, so I was starting to doubt my initial thoughts a bit.   The e-mail today confirmed that I was on the right track, though, so onward, as planned.

I don’t usually deliberately end a blog post on a sad note, but a beautiful Canadian voice was silenced today, and I just want to acknowledge her.  I don’t know how much of an audience The Rankin Family had outside of Canada, but they certainly have been a much-loved part of the music scene in this country for a long time now, particularly on the east coast.  My Celtic roots give me a natural affinity for the traditional music of Cape Breton and environs, and the Rankins do it well.   Rest in peace, Raylene.

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