Give me my Flowers While I Can Still smell them
Speak kind words to me while I can still hear them.
As I sat in church with tears in my eyes, I watched everyone pray, scream out their hearts to God about their wants and needs.
All I could do was think about what and how I was living. All that mattered was “what if I died now?”
What if I just stood up to leave and slumped? I had no idea why that was my worry but then I want to blame it on the fact that my mind flashed through my week. And remembered I attended a funeral of a friend. He died in a ghastly motor accident just about two weeks earlier.
Here I was thinking so hard about how he saw his death coming and was helpless about it. I saw how his brother and the family arranged his funeral, buried him and everyone was moving on already.
At the funeral, everyone had something to say. It didn’t matter if it were bad, annoying, good, or even a joke. Everyone seemed to know a thing or two about him and his dad just kept singing his praises.
But he never got his flowers…
His Dad was strict and never got to tell my friend he was proud of him or at least he never showed he was. How are you just saying all of this? My friend waited and hoped every day for his dad to validate him and not blame him for a lot of the wrong choices he made. But rather than make the young man feel loved and reassure him of how well he was working hard and how it was going to pay off soon. He only mocked him for not listening and following in his path as a businessman. My friend only wanted to be a tech founder.
But eventually, when we die, people have so much to say, people mourn, wail, and talk about how good or bad we lived.
Everyone suddenly thinks the dead person was an angel, gave alms, fed the poor, or helped his neighbors.
I am scared not because of how I’ll die or if I’ll die. I made peace with the fact that I’ll never live on earth forever even though I want to believe the Jay Z “Forever young” song once in a while.
How do I want my flowers?
In a world filled with so much hurt, pain, and chaos, I wished that my family and friends will learn to be happy for me regardless of how bad or weird my choices seem.
I wish my dad would say “I am proud of you Cynthia, you grew into a beautiful woman. You are working hard and all your work will pay off soon enough”.
I wished my friends would appreciate the time I take to call them, send texts on their birthdays and even be appreciative of the gifts I give them even if it’s not so much.
Life on earth is pretty short and as much as everyone remembers the bad things I do, I just really wished that the good I do will be recognized as well and not when it’s too late and I am late.
Death steals and it leaves no opportunities for last chances, give people their flowers when they deserve it, so they can see the beauty. Sing praises to your friends. Congratulate and celebrate people around you.
Always thank the barman. Smile at the security personnel. Tell your friends you’re proud of them, tell them how much they’ve grown, how good they do their jobs. Applaud your kids no matter how tiny of an effort they make.
After a long hour of crying and thinking about how I rarely got to tell my friends how amazing they are. I have decided to cheer my friends up and help them in their journey in life by celebrating them at all times.
Very often, I feel less of myself and only feel better when someone reaches out to me. It must feel this way for my friends too.
Celebrate your friends.
Buy them flowers, shower them with gifts, remind them of how honored you are to have them in your life.
Let’s appreciate people when they’re alive. Sing them praises when they can still hear you. Death comes and doesn’t give a second chance.
Give your friends and family as small as a Tulip, and not wait till they’re dead to buy them a bouquet of roses.
