Valentine  Flowers The usual Monday morning chaos met me at the door that hit me square in the ass coming in to my office building today. I managed to ignore much of the complaining about the icy parking lot and the usual suspects whining that the weekend went too quickly. In a rare way, I was almost happy to be in my quiet space there today. The weekend took its toll on friendships, love interests and what have you. I wanted all my meetings to cancel so I could listen to loud music through my headphones, put my feet up and type away all my back paperwork so that nobody had reason this week to fire me. And in that respect, it was a productive day. God bless Pittsburgh rockers, Bill Toms & Hard Rain, and Rev. Al Green! A rare slow Monday for the phone, too, which helped move along the paperwork marathon faster. The first time the phone rang, it was the receptionist saying I had a delivery. What now? The receptionist said to get downstairs quickly because, otherwise, she was claiming my beautiful Valentine flowers for her desk. I peeked down the atrium from the second floor balcony and saw a very beautiful floral arrangement on the front counter and busted the receptionist trying to read the card. The receptionist remarked that the sender's name was not on the card. Only a weird message that I'd find out who sent them before the day ended and Valentine's Day officially began. I know some strange men, was the unanimous opinion of the front desk ladies. I shrugged my shoulders because I had not a leg to stand on to win that debate. They were also right; the flowers were very beautiful. As I worked I glanced over at the flowers on my desk, wondered who sent them, but tried not to think about it. Only with 50 people walking by throughout the day asking about the flowers, it was pretty hard not to wonder. I called the florist. No go. They weren't talking either. The possibilities were not endless but a few to consider. Through dinner, my son's homework, laundry and cutting up vegetables for tomorrow's  dinner, I found myself still wondering about the flowers. I had planned to go to bed early, but waited for the email that finally came through at 11:50 PM. Old buddy Eric in Chicago sent them for this reason. Close to midnight on January 28th, I remembered that I almost forgot Eric's birthday. He works there in media sales. We've seen one another only a few times  since he left home years ago to work in Canada. We stayed in touch for about 10 years, then lost contact, until, by sheer coincidence only, we found ourselves pumping gas hundreds of miles from home in Atlanta in 1996. We always sent birthday cards because birthdays were always so special with us. So on January 28th, I typed an email before the stroke of midnight to wish him a happy birthday. Quickly, he replied and asked why he didn't marry me and have 13 kids, but then almost too seriously thanked me for all the love and friendship over time. I smiled at the monitor for a while. The phone rang as I was sending him a reply. Instead, we talked till dawn and laughed till our sides hurt about all the stupid things we used to do and still do when we should know better. Eric never married till recent years and that ended right before last Christmas. At times he was so lonesome in Canada and the many states he hopped around to for jobs that he would always call and talk for hours. So his mission this year was to send beautiful Valentine flowers to all his friends he loves, who are not involved in any real relationships and otherwise probably would not give or receive flowers from anyone else. His email also asked that I write about his Valentine flowers and send this little essay to anyone I know who might have needed Valentine flowers or the mere thought of them and include him in the mailing list. This I do now. I was the only person who remembered his last birthday -- and that meant so much to him, again in a strange new city, knowing nobody else essentially, other than old friends miles away. jt 2-15-06 Return to Essay List                    Return to Homepage