Always yearning to know more, I was buying a new book by a favorite author of mine, when I was informed by the cashier with my purchase I get to select a pen and have it engraved.
Why, yes! At the engraving machine, I chose my font and I could choose an icon to have etched into my new pen. Too many categories, let's just get to what I like, "Do you have a flower?"
Voila! The floral button prompted pages of flowers. I pointed to one, when the well-intentioned cashier said, "Ummmm... that's a dandelion."
First of all, Karen, no kidding. [I have no idea what her name is, but she is acting like a Karen.]
Second, why do you have that look on your face as you said dandelion.
"I want the dandelion."
Karen. You see a weed.
Forever etched in my mind's eye and in my heart is my perfect and sturdy 3 year old granddaughter. We are playing chase in a field full of dandelions, when she begins picking them up and squeezing them tight in her chubby baby hands. My Sofia is blowing hard and often missing her target of the white wisps with seeds. Her fist tight, her face scrunched up she is blowing with purpose and a little spit.
Me, lost in the moment, watching her master blowing dandelions. Make a wish, pretty girl. Wishes are made blowing on dandelions, blowing on birthday candles and on twinkling stars.
When I see this dandelion now etched on my pen, I see love in the form of my granddaughter and a memory of her blowing on dandelions.
