Rambling Rose
My Aim Is True
- Joined
- Jul 11, 2001
- Posts
- 10,901
There is a company in my city that will fill your yard with pink flamingos, airborn winged pigs or sinister black crows for birthdays and anniversaries. It usually puts a smile on my face to see this profusion of silliness to celebrate a stranger's personal holiday.
Today was a little different.
I live at the edge of an affluent neighborhood. My home belonged, in all probability, to the servants of the original homeowners in my community. These immaculate houses, with their rolling and carefully landscaped lawns, rarely go on the market. The families that live in them have lived there for generations. I have grown to recognize certain families after seeing the matriarch watering her flowers or the young mother playing with her children in the park that is in the center of this community. I see old men walking their old dogs and newborns being carried into the house from the hospital. I pass these houses every day and, even though they have no idea who I am, I feel like - in a small way - I know them. It never occurs to me that they hold anything less than contented families who live peaceful and trouble free lives.
On my way to work this morning, I turned the corner by the park and saw one of these manicured and lush lawns filled with pink flamingos. It was gaudy and tacky and I was surprised by the colorful display...and then I saw the announcement sign. It read "CHEMO IS OVER" in large black letters.
My smile froze on my face. A lump formed in my chest and my throat seemed to close on me. 100 pink flamingos and I cried all the way to work.
Today was a little different.
I live at the edge of an affluent neighborhood. My home belonged, in all probability, to the servants of the original homeowners in my community. These immaculate houses, with their rolling and carefully landscaped lawns, rarely go on the market. The families that live in them have lived there for generations. I have grown to recognize certain families after seeing the matriarch watering her flowers or the young mother playing with her children in the park that is in the center of this community. I see old men walking their old dogs and newborns being carried into the house from the hospital. I pass these houses every day and, even though they have no idea who I am, I feel like - in a small way - I know them. It never occurs to me that they hold anything less than contented families who live peaceful and trouble free lives.
On my way to work this morning, I turned the corner by the park and saw one of these manicured and lush lawns filled with pink flamingos. It was gaudy and tacky and I was surprised by the colorful display...and then I saw the announcement sign. It read "CHEMO IS OVER" in large black letters.
My smile froze on my face. A lump formed in my chest and my throat seemed to close on me. 100 pink flamingos and I cried all the way to work.
