Every year with the first signs of spring, dandelion buds begin to dot our lawn. My husband will spray, but to no avail. Most of our neighbors lawns are pristine and dandelion free, but not ours. Although not a sea of yellow, the yellow spots among the green aren’t hard to miss. As much as this bothers my husband and our neighbors I’m sure, I like it.
Since my son was very little, he has taken great pride in picking me dandelion bouquets whenever he was out and about in the yard. At first the bouquets consisted of just the heads, because that was all his stubby little hands could grasp. I would fill a bowl with water and let them float on top until they shriveled and died, keeping it on the kitchen counter for all to see.
When he did figure out how to grab the stem as well as the flower, many of them would come to me broken and mangled because it wasn’t that easy breaking those sticky, flimsy stems. Still, I would fill a thin glass with water and let the bouquet use the sides to hold up the heads until they shriveled and sunk down into the glass.
Eventually, after many years, he was able to break the stems without any problem and present me with wonderful handfuls of dandelions. Finally I was able to put them in a bud vase where on occasion they lasted for nearly 24 hours before closing into themselves and dying.
My son is now 20 and although he doesn’t go out in the yard to play anymore, yesterday he took Bell for a walk and when he got home he presented me with a single perfect little dandelion which I set on a canning jar next to my computer while I worked.
Some things never get old, and for this I am — Simply Grateful.