The Orange

It had been such a beautiful weekend, with the sun and its delicious feeling light and warmth invigorating all my senses. My husband got busy in his greenhouse, and it is always my favorite time of early spring when all the seeds he plants there start sprouting into tiny sunflowers and squashes and Morning Glory and the fuchsia starts are taking off in the hanging baskets before they will be transferred outside under the eves of the house. The strawberries looked so fresh and pretty in their white flowers and bright green leaves, and there was a whole tray of brightly colored Gerbera daisies that seemed to want to jump into a sunny spot outside of the green house by the deck. The birds were singing outside the kitchen window on this cheerful  Monday morning, and the neighbours chickens were squawking with vigour in springtime euphoria. I was preparing my husband's and son's work and college lunches, peeling a particularly fragrant orange. The scent and feel of the bright orange fruit with its white inside peel made me think back of eating oranges as a child. The scent made me wish for the extensive family I grew up with, for the aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews. The sweet scent of the orange as I was peeling it into juicy, soft crescent shaped slices filled me with a gentle sorrow, a sorrow that felt like a quiet breeze, with a rhythmic sound that matched my breathing. I missed being part of an extensive, gregarious family,with the births, marriages, birthdays, anniversaries, funerals,all events my husband, son and I almost never attended, unless it was by rare invitation by a close neighbour or friend. But I was acutely aware of how grateful I was for my husband and son. They made this house a warm and cozy home. I went back to peeling the orange and put it in a small Tupperware with my son's lunch. The simple gesture brought me out of the brief reverie and nostalgia and I knew that from here on out the scent of oranges would bring my son and husband to mind and this quiet, peaceful morning in our quiet, peaceful, home. It is just like our pastor once said, " You may not have everything you want, but most assuredly you have more than you need". I was looking forward to my quiet lunch on the deck, eating my sandwich and orange with the bright blue sky above me, listening for the high pitched sound of Bald Eagles overhead above the tall trees, alternating with the piercing metallic whir of hummingbirds coming to our feeders as the cat purred nearby in the sun and the dog snoozed nearby in the cooling shade.