The Romance Subscription
Happy, Happy, Happy — You Brighten my Life!
I love fresh-cut flowers; they’re so cheerful. I witnessed my dad give my mom flowers growing up, and she was always so pleased. It implanted in my spirit a sense that flowers equal love.
I have a memory from high school when I didn’t make the Varsity Cheerleading squad (I still think that was personal), and my dad sent me flowers to try to cheer me up. It worked; it took just a little of the sting of disappointment away. I felt special and loved. I had them sitting beside my bed in my bedroom and gazed at them, dreaming of a day I would get flowers from a boy.
When I left my marriage and moved out on my own, I promised myself that I would try my best to keep flowers in my house at all times. I’ve done pretty well.
I recently got a little help, which was nice. I was dating a man who showed up to our first date with flowers and then had them delivered to me periodically. The first time I got them, I got a jolt of surprise and pleasure. They arrived in a box, expertly packaged from some sweet garden farm in California. They were lovely; roses, lilies, hydrangea, and other wildflowers I can’t name — beautiful. There wasn’t a card, but I had a strong sense they were from this magical man, which he confirmed.
A couple of weeks later, another box. Still great packaging, beautiful flowers, but this time with a card — yay! It said, “happy, happy, happy. You brighten my life.” My heart swooned. So sweet!!!
I took pictures, sent them to friends and my mom. I felt adored and excited. My friends were happy for me, maybe even envious.
Like before, I put the flowers on my kitchen table and gazed at them often. I kept and re-read the card.
A couple of weeks later, another box. WOW! Right? What a sweet and thoughtful catch! This man! That’s the message I sent to my mom and friends with this picture. There was a card! It said, “ happy, happy, happy. You brighten my life.”
Wait…what??
This man is a master of words. Why not a new message? I won’t lie; I was a little disappointed.
Upon closer inspection, the bouquet was suspiciously similar. I was confused. I started to wonder crazy things, like does he have a whole host of women he’s sending flowers to, and he uses a generic card to keep from making a careless error?
Quickly setting that thought aside as it had the potential to ruin the experience, I just put the flowers on the table and delighted in the fantasy — he is totally smitten with me and wants to shower me with proof. He’s just busy, and that message is appropriate for this stage in our encounter.
This went on for about a month when one Tuesday, a bouquet arrived with a different card. He was leaving town for a long trip, and the card said that he would miss me. Disappointed about our time apart, I was grateful for some assurance. Flowers on the table, gaze, send pictures; you know the drill by now.
A few weeks later, I was traveling out west to visit him. The day before my departure, he tells me that flowers will arrive on Tuesday. He forgot to cancel the order. Delusion shattered! “What?” I said. “Is this a subscription? Do you have me on an automatic flower delivery program? That is so not romantic. I’m like your utility bill.”
I felt a little ungrateful and spoiled immediately after I said it, but it’s true. The delight of receiving flowers or any gift, for that matter, is the knowledge that someone you care about was thinking about you. This is especially true of a romantic relationship. I mean, set it and forget it is very convenient, but it flies in the face of the intended gesture, right?
Anyway, on that trip, the relationship ended. Two days later, on Tuesday, guess what arrived? Flowers with a card that said, “happy, happy, happy. You brighten my life.” I admit. I was a little salty. After careful consideration, I gave the flowers to a friend. I did not acknowledge them to the man.
Two weeks later, again. This time, I decided the flowers were from God. I had resolved to devote myself to my relationship with the mystical, loving force of the Universe for a while. God was using this man to send me flowers. I didn’t even look at the card, sent pictures, and admired the flowers on my table.
This past Tuesday, the flowers didn’t come. Like the relationship, the subscription apparently ended. I feel a little sad about that. I like this man, and the flowers offered an illusion that something remained between us. However, I also feel some relief. I need to let him go completely. Little reminders don’t help with that objective.
Today, there are flowers on my table that came from a more devoted and reliable source. God can send flowers through any number of channels.
I am sincerely grateful for the bi-weekly bouquets. It was a delight every time, even if the sentiment behind them didn’t match the fairytale I seek. This I know for sure — I do not want my romance on subscription.
