Friday, November 30, 2007

Strange memories.

Many years ago, I worked as a florist.
I designed many arrangements and as a bonus, I got to deliver them as well.

On one occasion, I was to deliver a 'Get Well' bouquet.
The house I pulled up in front of was old and odd and ramshackle. The yard had grown wild and was swallowing the house.

I climbed the rickety stairs, not sure what I was going to find, but the golden eyed cats that followed felt reassuring to me.

The door opened to an equally untamed looking old man. He had the look more of absent-minded untidy bachelor than anything else.
Looking surprised to see me, he graciously took the bouquet, explaining sotto voce that the flowers must be for his wife, Jenny, who was lying in the other room.

I commented on the beautiful cats that had gathered around his feet. By this time 4 of the sleek black beasts had emerged from the shadows and were lolling about.

"Ah!" He sounded excited. "Do you know what kind of cats they are?"
I shook my head.
"These are the beautiful Bombay cats, breed for their golden eyes. My wife loves them, and they're very gentle. Do you like cats? Do you have a minute?"

I said yes to both questions.

He vanished back into the dark house and re-emerged a moment later with a beautiful book about cats, to which he had already turned to the pages on the Bombays.

I don't remember much about the actual words he spoke, or the information he imparted. But I remember clearly the excitement and enjoyment he obviously was experiencing at sharing his love and knowledge with someone.

Eventually I had to leave. Work has a way of interfering in real life.

A month later the flower shop received an order for an 'In Sympathy' bouquet. I piled it into the van, checked the address and off I went.

It wasn't till I was almost in front of that same house that I realized what had happened.

Jenny must have died from her illness.
I felt so sad and sick.

The cats didn't come out from their shadows and no one answered the door.

I had to leave the bouquet on the front step.

I'll always wonder about that man.
How he coped.
If he coped.

I'll never forget how happy he was to share something of himself that day, though his wife must have surely been very ill at that point.

I wished that he had been home so I could have expressed my sorrow, patted the cats, said something. Thanked him.

And he's stayed in my memory all these years. Him, his 'beautiful Bombay cats' and his wife Jenny, to whom I delivered flowers to twice, but who I never, ever saw.





A Vase of Flowers
Paul Gaugin
1896

21 comments:

Janice Thomson said...

What a touching and poignant memory Tai. I am sure the old man saw the compassion in your heart when you gave him a few minutes of your time.
I know I did.

Mad Munkey said...

Everyone needs their escapes. What a wonderful one you provided. Such a poignant story in so few words.

geewits said...

Welcome to my world. I have been delivering food for Meals on Wheels for 7 years and have lost many people. I never thought about florists being in the same boat. It's sweet that you still think about them. Thoughts are what keep people alive.

Big Brother said...

Very nice post Tai, in our hurried world we often do not take he time to really come in contact with people, That was a kind and generous thing that you did, listening to the old man and I'm sure that it made his day a bit brighter.

Silverstar said...

Beautiful but sad story, as someone who was involved in creating gifts that are often tied with so much emotion you must have lots of them. :)

Hermes said...

I don't know how I'd cope at being a senior and losing my other. I hope I go first or really soon after. Cats won't fill the gap.

Unknown said...

That’s a superb and poignant story, Tai. Thank you.

kimber said...

A beautiful post, Tai, and a precious, fleeting encounter. I do hate how work has a way of interrupting poignant moments.

Mz.Elle said...

Ohh your story has me in tears.
Thank you Tai.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

What a lovely story. These are the moments I refer to sometimes. Moments where we are touched by something that becomes a part of us, no matter how little that touch was.

I envy that moment you had with the elderly man. How special he must have felt and how wonderful of you to allow him to share with you.

Just wonderful!

Jazz said...

Beautiful post Tai.

limpy99 said...

That was a nice story. I'll bet Jenny returned as a Bombay cat in her next life.

Lone Grey Squirrel said...

A touching and wonderful story. Thanks.

Jocelyn said...

Oh.

My.

Right now, my heart hurts.

choochoo said...

Poor guy...

Considering my love of dogs combined with my hatred of gardening and all domestic chores, I could totaly end up like that.

JQ said...

What a sad story.

BostonPobble said...

Weeping...

Jo said...

Oh, what a lovely story. Isn't it amazing how people like that can touch our hearts? You know, I'll bet he remembers you too. He obviously was longing for company the day you first delivered the flowers, and you took the time to spend a few minutes with him, and you were truly interested in what he had to say, and his Bombay cats. To him, you were probably an angel sent from Heaven, not just the flower delivery girl.

Ian Lidster said...

Poor old guy. You have a lovely soul, my equally lovely friend.

blackcrag said...

Things I Never Knew About Tai: She worked as a florist.

I had curious relationships with some of my customers when I had a paper route way back when. Like you, certain customers would take me in to their home and chat to me about various things when I went to collect their fees. It's a curious but fleeting intimacy.

Crazy Me said...

This post made me stop and take a breath. Beautifully written.