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Life is Like a Hibiscus

You Get What You Wake Up To.

By MaSuPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 5 min read
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Life in yellow and red.

Sometimes life has a way of dropping random memories in your way, especially when you least expect it. For me, one of those random intrusions happens at the oddest moments in my life but nonetheless it’s welcomed and essential.

: : :

The Friday afternoon before Mother’s Day I was finishing up my small errands without Sam. The name I gave my son’s wagon that I use for shopping when I’m walking a mile or less which doubles as a walking “boot” (another name for a car’s trunk).

Suddenly, like a Florida summer rain I got an inextinguishable urge to stop at the ultimate adult toy store; Home Depot. Why? I couldn’t tell you. . . yet. I meandered down the aisles checking out new products, and picking up some more disinfectant for the people that come over and are a “Covid-likely” suspect. (Ok, don’t judge me, just being proactive.)

Of course I strayed into my favorite space, the garden area looking for another herb or plant I could sneak into my son’s apartment, because all apartments need CO2 suckers… right?

My son had just “Moved on up to the Eastside in a Deluxe Apartment in the Sky”, (for real, but only to the 3rd floor). So for his “apartment gift” I had already bought a small flowering Beach Bum Blue to match his blue theme and a citrus geranium for the inevitable summer mosquitos that would be finding their way to his balcony. But I still strolled, sniffed and admired; nothing popped out. Like a dizzy Yellow Jacket I zigzagged to the indoor plant displays circling twice. The poor store clerk watched my indecisiveness and frustration. As I walked past him I inquired about my favorite of all blooms that is always sold out.

“Good afternoon. It’s such a perfect day to buy a Hibiscus, where are they hiding?”

“Sorry, I haven’t seen them lately but I think they may be across the street.”

He pointed to the distant overflow garden in the parking lot, I knew passing up a possibility of getting a jump on the pre-Spring Hibiscus rush was risky. However, the thought of trying to navigate two 3-foot trees a 1/2 mile to my son’s apartment without Sam and juggling them on my already expired feet, I had to pass. I paid for my Covid-19 warrior spray and walked out the garden entry.

The store clerk rushed over to recapture his “always gonna buy something” customer offering some unappealing hybrid house plants. I smiled and declined. But both of us knew I’d be back.

I walked out, turned left and there, on an overshadowed rack next to a towering display of wilting sales-failed Easter Lillies, a red bloom thrust itself out at me and sprayed me with drops of water that the dead Lilly rack needed much more than me. The single 6-inch red and yellow blooms were tightly nestled in the center of a rack of Pansies and Impatiences.

Before I could react, the memories of my childhood mornings intruded.

: : :

Late for my 7AM yearbook meeting or extra track drills I was always rushing into the kitchen to eat my breakfast of three eggs, an avocado and orange juice. Every morning rain or shine, winter or summer Aunty (my grandma’s sister) took her “before-day” stroll to the top of our street, circling the block down 39th Street, then Louisa Street and ending outside our front door. Aunty gathered a handful of single or double red, yellow or pink hibiscus blooms along the way from Mr. Frog’s, Mama TeeTee or Ms. Doris’ bushes to put on the breakfast table in time before Mom and Dad left for work and my siblings and I went off to school. On the days when “life was waiting on us to smile” (as she put it) Aunty would take an extra one to Grandma (her younger, silently feuding and only sister). And after his wife, Miss Elisabeth died, Aunty offered our “mean as a snake” neighbor, Mr. Mounts a handful if and when he’d answer the door.

I asked Aunty why she made such an effort day after day; for decades. A story she was always eager to share with those who listened or was intrusively engrossed.

Aunty was born in 1894 and grew up in the West Indies where the British made no apologies for their behavior of extended slavery on the villages where they could still lasso their financial rope around their native’s necks. Aunty’s family business was raising Black Pineapple which was as delicate and infamous as the Antiguan hibiscus flower. The British stole everything from their village to claim and exploit except the hibiscus. So after moving to the US and then to Florida Aunty planted hibiscus everywhere and showered everybody and everything around her with the blooms from her garden. She believed that no matter how hard, unfair or unprofitable yesterday was, that when a handful of beautiful hibiscus met you at the start of your day, surely our dreams would find us and life would be kind to us, because God had smiled and was preparing a great day for us.

Tears flowed as I purchased two single 6-inch hibiscus; one red and one yellow. It was all I could transport safely without loosing the beautiful blooms. I could tell that while my favorite store clerk was placing the pots carefully in my reusable shopping bag, the spirit of Aunty’s Hibiscus Legacy lived and still lingered; and somehow I didn’t think I had to share Aunty’s story at that moment but I knew someday I would. When he stepped back smiling with a distant look of satisfaction I knew it was most likely for both of us.

“Aunty, should I expect to see you and Sam tomorrow to get some potting soil to extend the lives of the new addition to your family?” (Tho in the Carribean and Afrikan culture it’s common to call an elder female Mum or Aunty, I was taken back by the intrusion of memories life had just awakened within me.)

I stared at him thru tear-glazed eyes and walked away balancing two glorious wonders of God.

The store clerk winked and waved. We both knew I’d be back.

Humanity
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About the Creator

MaSu

I see life and people at many angles to embrace my creativity and ignite diversity. I write to motivate all of us to step into our greatness so we can boldly build a strong and resilient community that will change our footprint.

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