I was driving home from school late one night. I hated the
drive home from school. It was long with lots of freeway switching and
stretched my nerves to capacity each time I drove it multiple times a week. The
drive also gave me time alone and to think which lately was all sad grief
filled thoughts. My Dad had died a few weeks before and the last time I ever
talked to him was a phone call on the drive home from school so I relived the
phone call every night which was both happy (since it was a great conversation)
and also sad (because it was the last time I would hear his voice on earth). Then
the rabbit my husband had gotten me to cheer my up after Dad died had died
earlier in the same week of my drive home. It was a very dramatic rabbit death
filled with a panic filled trip to the pet store for potential life saving
rabbit supplies but in the end the rabbit died too. I was definitely way down
deep in a low point.
So when I stepped into the apartment to hear the announcement
from my husband that I had a special delivery I was curious. It was a very
glamorous box of flowers. I hadn’t ever seen flowers be delivered in boxes except
for in old black and white movies. They were extremely beautiful and simply
elegant white lilies. I was shocked and unsure why I would get something like
this delivered. The card was brief, “Our deepest sympothies,” and then it read
three women’s names. I knew woman with the names it read but none of them had
any connection to each other. I began to think of who in the world would spend
clearly a wad of cash of these expensive boxed lilies. I thought of all the
women I went to church with, worked with, and attended school with. I thought
of old high school friends. I thought of potentially distant cousins on my Dad’s
side of the family but couldn’t have guessed how they would have gotten my
address and why they would have picked me out of the six kids in my family to
send the flowers to. I thought of maybe the three female names being some sort
of code. Maybe they spelled sympathy incorrectly with o “sympothy” on purpose
to provide some sort of clue. I was all over the place with my theories, even
of course the guilt theory of “I should know who these three women are!”
I still have no idea who sent the flowers but it turned me
around. The flowers made me smile and feel happy and special and loved and
especially got me thinking happy thoughts and steered me away from the grief
puddle I kept walking through every night on the way home from school. I still
think of my flower delivery and wonder who it could have been and hope they
know it was appreciated.
Last week the three woman on the card came to mind again. I
had another anonymous flower delivery. This time they were left by my front
door. It had been a crazy day. Our water heater had broken. So as an extension of
that was first thing in the morning emptying out the storage closet that the
water heater is housed in. Since this is our only storage space it’s like Pandora’s
box and not in the good cool music way. Oh and the plumber who was sincerely
super man awesome to come so quick got to watch me rushing to empty the closet
out which at the time felt similar to being on one of those “what not to wear”
episodes when the hosts completely insult every piece of clothing you have. I
wanted to explain everything in the closet, “Yeah we really had an ant problem
one year that’s why we have a couple of half used bug sprays….Hey let me tell
you the story behind this PVC pipe and random wood pieces it’s a good story you’re
going to laugh……Yeah I keep my tamale pot outside! Where do you keep yours?”
After
being exposed as the messy and random outside storage closet human being that I
am, there was a poop problem that day too. An unexpected amount of kid poop needed
cleaned up right after the storage closet incident. THEN I had forgotten that
it was happening that day but I had already planned on and agreed to help some
friends with something. So when the water heater forced me to expose my closet to
a stranger and landed simultaneously on the poop storm witnessed by unsuspecting
friends….well it was touch and go for a while.
Then the plumber knocked on the
back door. He said that my water heater was 17 years old. He said that similar
water heaters to mine are lucky to make it to 7 years. Really?
I was so proud! What a hard working water heater! We have
put an increasing load of usage pressure on that big guy over the past 10 years
and ALL of those years were miraculous. He never gave up for 10 years! Other
water heaters just like him gave up, but not him. He washed our clothes and
shined up the baby bottles, nebulizers, and dishes night after night for 10
years past his prime without complaint. How many glorious hot showers had we
enjoyed on that wonderful amazing miraculous water heater! The poop storm didn’t
matter anymore. The huge mess of my emptied out storage closet in the backyard
didn’t matter anymore. That water heater was my new hero! I had been sitting on
a miracle for 10 years and didn’t even know it. I began to wonder about all of the
other blessings I hadn’t realized were mine but continued to enjoy unawares. What other appliances and pipes
should have broken ages ago but are still dutifully performing for our family
without us taking notice? My eyes were opened and my attitude was changed. There are so many blessings from God that we don't even see.
Then a few hours later my husband walked in from work and
said, “why is there a bouquet of flowers outside the door?” Could the day have
gotten any better after the water heater miracle being unearthed? Sure thing!
Some nice person must have known. They must have known the worries in our heart
over broken water heaters, lung function tests, lack of weight gain, and poop storms.
So they came and left something beautiful by the door. Now again my mind races
from person to person in my life on who it could have been. Theories are being
conspiracied about this nice person and the flowers they left. But don’t worry
sneaky sneaker between your kindness and our newfound hero the 1999 water
heater we are unstoppable.
Here is a picture of my hero the water heater and me with
the mystery bouquet. I think I will have to write some sort of clever rhyming
poem about the “water heater that could” and add him to the wall of family
pictures. I really am so proud of him.
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Look at this guy! Isn't he beautiful! What a hard worker! |
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Instead of the messy kitchen in the background you could think, whoa a 50 pound bag of flour almost used up and recipe books balanced on her oven hood, that girl is a baker even in her 4x4 kitchen! |
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