On Flowers

I received an odd phone call on Friday, during work hours. The local flower nursery called to apologize that my delivery would be a day late.

“My delivery?” I confirmed my name and phone number and sure enough, someone was sending me flowers. My cheeks turned about forty shades of red. “Can you tell me who they are from?”

The florist checked the records but it came up empty. No buyer information listed. Not a phone number or home state or first initial. Apparently, whoever gifted them, bought said flowers through a third party website which didn’t pass any of that information on except where to send the flowers. I was told they could be local or from ten states away, she had no way of knowing.

Saturday rolled around and a delivery of beautiful roses, lilies, and carnations arrived. Lilies are my second favorite flower and the bouquet was stunning. I double checked the card and only an anonymous message was left. The message was quite lovely but without a signature, I’ve been left…. well, I’ve been a bit annoyed.

I should take the flowers and be flattered. But here’s the thing, it’s not in my nature. I want to thank whoever did it. I want to know what motivated them. I want to know who it is. But for the third day straight, I’ve been baffled. I’ve asked all of my friends, and they all plead innocent. My cousin said she did it at first, but when we talked she laughed and said no she really didn’t, but she’d take the credit for someone’s nice deed.

I can probably count all the times I’ve received flowers on fewer fingers then my two hands combined. Most of those times were from my 16th birthday in which the only thing I asked for was flowers. I’d love to say during prom, or a first date, or an anniversary I’ve received flowers but I never have. Not once. It’s not weird… or at least not until I started to write about it. I guess what bugs me is that getting flowers feels like kind of a big thing. Maybe to most, it isn’t. But to this girl, it matters. I guess it bugs me that I have no idea who they came from. I don’t get to thank someone. I don’t get to know if it was out of friendship or the desire for a date or to tell me simply that someone was thinking about me. I don’t get to know if I did something to deserve them, or if it was an act of random kindness.

I’m sure it seems silly, I know. I guess big gestures (or small ones) don’t happen a lot. And when they do, I don’t want to lose the chance at letting that person know how much it means to me. That getting a bouquet of flowers made me smile and wonder to the point of writing a blog post.

If you’re the one who sent them to me, contact me. Tell me what the note attached read. I’d love the chance to thank you properly. IMG_1861.jpeg

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