There was a dear neighbor I’d known for years and even shared care-taking responsibilities for rescuing a lost cat before we got George adopted. Our old dogs were buddies.
She got mad at me for something I didn’t do, and a couple of years went by. One morning her dog dragged her to my door. I petted the dog and my neighbor said hello. Her dog died the next day.
I received a note at my door. Immediately I went out and bought a vase with yellow and blue flowers and delivered it to her. She invited me in and we became friends again.
A month later my old dog passed. I left her a note. She responded with a new vase and different yellow and blue flowers. We’ve lost touch over the years but I like this story for many reasons.
We were, were not, then were friends. We loved our dogs and they loved both of us. Her dog was persistent to get us back together before she died. A month later my dog knew she was dying (died the next day) so brought a huge teddy bear to the Park, a new thing as for ten years she’d always brought a ball to chase, and said goodbye to all the dogs, their owners and all the kids in the tot lot who always called out her name and ran to see her.
Blue and yellow do not signify death to me. They mean life, love, friendship. My husband is en route home and now I buy him flowers every week. He got them for me for 15 years so now everyone laughs at me for buying them for him. I guess most wives don’t do that. Less time meticulously buying flowers for me means more precious time with us. Plus, the gorgeous flower place where I go is half-off on Fridays!
Today I bought yarrow (yellow), blue/purple thistles, a reminder of our time in Scotland and its’ national flower, and yellow alstroemeria. Yellow and blue. Life, love and friendship. Cheers and have a great weekend! We plan to chill out and make a couple of dry aged NY strip steaks. Dee