A friend of mine was looking at orchids. I was observing and he asked me if I like flowers. I said: “of course!” (almost thinking that which woman doesn’t like flowers??? – but we always find some that don’t), and I pointed to some beautiful bouquets nicely arranged with vibrating colours and others with some pink/lilac tones.
He then said back to me “ooooooh… you like DEAD flowers…” and for a second I was astonished… ‘what do you mean by dead flowers?’ (I didn’t verbalize but it passed in my head…) then, all of the sudden the coin dropped… and I start thinking that they are not really dead flowers, they might die faster than others but some of them last longer than potted flowers!!!
I said to him, almost in a passionate way: “well, they may be dying flowers, but wouldn’t be great for them to have company on their last days of glory, beauty and light? and wouldn’t be an honour to me of being part of their last minutes and appreciate all their scent, colours, life?”
It seemed too poetic, but I was feeling that way, and also, after this thought I was with an eager instinct of buying all of them to fill my house and pass some of the best days of their lives just looking and appreciating them.
Unfortunately they were too expensive and I couldn’t buy all, but I got the bright orange/yellow coloured bouquet. They are beautiful and I’m glad that I will be part of their last moments…