You are not alone…
You may find yourself single, but you are not alone. Hell, you might even get lonely, but you are not alone. You might be in a relationship and feel alone, but you are not alone, proximity is no guarantee of intimacy.
I’ve been guilty of cutting people off, not so much in traffic, but in life. Pruning is a good thing. However, timing is everything. According to the folks at plant-care.com, ”spring pruning of established roses is always a gamble. If you prune too early, late spring frosts can kill all the canes. If you prune too late, some of the plants’ strength will be lost in the growth of the top shoots.”
Ms. Dorothy Harris, my elderly neighbor with long platinum hair, who took a chance on me growing up.
Anytime I think about roses, I think of Ms. Dorothy Harris, my elderly neighbor with long platinum hair, who took a chance on me growing up. She taught how and why to pick weeds, she let me borrow her shovel when it snowed to make extra cash, she showed me the difference between dandelions & wildflowers, I learned about ferns, and yes she taught me how to prune a rose bush.
When I wanted to get my driver’s license, I had doubts it would be possible because my parents didn’t drive. They didn’t own a car, and I didn’t have any relatives that owned a car I could borrow. The only adult I knew with a car was Ms. Harris. Ms. Harris thought to have your license was essential, so she drove me to take the exam in her Caprice Classic and let me use her car to take the exam. She was single, but she stayed busy.
Don’t get me wrong; some people have to be cut off. At the other end of the spectrum, you have folks who are looking to latch on to someone whom they think could help take them to the next level. With all this clamoring and cutting people off, you need discernment to help you distinguish a friend from a foe.
Ms. Harris was a friend, and when I got married, I invited Ms. Harris to the wedding, she wasn’t able to attend but gave us a monetary gift that made me stop and cry. We moved to Long Island, but I’d always stop by and visit Ms. Harris. My friend was a chain-smoking retired librarian. During one of those visits, she couldn’t talk because of throat cancer, so she wrote notes on index cards to communicate with me.
Check-in on your friends, and hopefully, they’ll be more of an exchange, you know the standard stock question and reply, “Hey how are you? You good? “I’m good. I can’t complain,” Everyone ain’t alright.
