Ten years ago, as my then husband and I searched our favorite neighborhood in the city for a quaint little place to call our own, we settled on a cape cod with a lot of character. Ms Betty Redford was a happy older woman and other than the odor of cat, the home was perfect for the new couple starting their new life together (us). After we moved in we learned of the rumor that her husband had died in the living room. I have lost countless nights of sleep thinking I heard Mr. Redford walking around upstairs, knocking over things, flicking the lights and reprogramming my DVD Player. I often thought back to the brief conversation we had with her before we moved in. Her only request/demand of us was that we filled the house with love as she and her husband had done.
We got right to work; LOWE'S, HOME DEPOT and the like. See we were more concerned with making the house our own. Ripping up carpet. Painting rooms. Removing wall paper. Redoing the kitchen. Buying appliances...all that fun stuff that makes buying a home so time consuming and such a labor of love. In fact, in hindsight, the only thing we didn't work on, was our love. We really didn't give it any attention. Perhaps there was a warning sign back there that we both missed.
I would still have these creepy feelings that Mr. Redford was walking around my house at night knocking over things and reeking havoc on all he came into contact with. There were the unexplainable barks of my dog and any given hour, missing items and the random thuds and bumps in the middle of the night.
One day, my neighbor Ms. G, told me how The Redfords LOVED each other so much and it was clear to all who knew them. None of that warm and fuzzy stuff mattered to me because I wanted more details on how the man died in the house. Ironically, it was , a HEART ATTACK. Countless nights I spent wondering if Mr. Redford was a mean old man hating what I had done to his house, but eventually I grew accustom to it. I even joked and called him out. TEN YEARS LATER, I finally got it!!
This spring as I was out in the back yard cutting flowers, I finally admired the garden and the grounds that Mr. Redford was once so proud of, and that my husband had worked so hard on. I had let the garden go into disrepair partially as an act of rebellion against my ex-husband and partially because I really don't know the first thing about gardening. Through it all, Mr. Redford's blossoms bloom every year like clock work. This year I filled vases throughout the house. I had the most beautiful bouquets of white and pink and red flowers...This is how he haunts me!! With the beauty of love and these lovely flowers.
I used to love the verse in the Prince song "Nothing Compares To You" where he says:
All the flowers that you planted
in the backyard
all died when you went away
all died when you went away
And now I get it. The flowers don't die if you give them the smallest amount of attention. We had a long and snowy winter around these parts and I actually thought a few plants had died. In fact, what actually happened was while they were dormant, they returned this spring more determined than ever to show me the power of love and how after the coldest winter "must come Spring" in the words of Lauryn Hill "Everything is Everything."
