Dedicated to Lucy…A Hydrangea Story

“Hey!”, the text on my phone read, “My mom has more hydrangeas than she knows what to do with. Would you like some?”

Would I like some? “Are you kidding? OF COURSE!” was my speedy response.

“I’ll come pick you up after dinner and we can head on over!” came the reply. “Ok, but just know that I’m in my grubby sweats. You’ve been warned!” I texted back.

I saw her car pull into the driveway just as I was finishing up the last of the dinner dishes. I grabbed my bucket, yelled “see you guys in a few minutes” to my family and raced out the door.

As I hopped in the car I noticed that Julie didn’t have her own bucket. “Aren’t you going to get some too?”, I asked.

“Oh, I already have a ton at my house“, she replied.

“So, this is just for me?” I asked.

I couldn’t believe that she would drive me over to her mom’s house just so that I could get some hydrangeas.

“Well, we just thought you might enjoy them!” she answered.

We got to Lucy’s house and as the door swung open I was met with the same warm smile that has always greeted me every time I’ve encountered this woman, the mother of one of my dearest friends. She gave me a big hug as I stepped into her foyer. I looked over towards the dining room and noticed that it had been set with lovely china and a delicious looking cake.

“I thought maybe we could enjoy a little dessert together“, Lucy said. I glanced down at my grubbiest of grubby sweats and thought that I currently looked more like I should be cleaning toilets (which is what I’d been doing earlier that day!) than sitting down for tea and cake at her beautiful dining room table.

Was this done just for me?

“But, let’s go get you some flowers first!” she said.

As we stepped through the back door I felt as though I had been transported to a garden somewhere in the English countryside. Multiple varieties of roses lined paths and wound their way up onto arbors. A gentle breeze picked up their heady scent and as I turned the corner I saw them…the largest, most incredible hydrangea bushes I’d ever seen.

I felt like I’d won the hydrangea lottery!

We started clipping and clipping and clipping and clipping, all the while chatting about the ordinary stuff of life.

Only this didn’t feel like an ordinary kind of moment. It felt almost…magical.

The three of us there laughing and talking on that warm summer evening, elbow deep in hydrangeas as my bucket was filled to overflowing.

And all of those beautiful blooms were just for me to take home and enjoy!

After the bucket was so full that I could barely lift it, we went inside and sat down at the dining room table. Lucy sliced the cake and handed me a piece on a gorgeous china plate. We talked more…and laughed more…and I even forgot for a bit that I was in my grubby sweats.

We ate cake and covered topics ranging from how to properly dry hydrangeas to how to talk to our daughters about puberty. It’s amazing how much ground women can cover conversationally in a half an hour!

We talked about the At the Picket Fence blog and Lucy, as she always does, went on and on about this project and that project and how much she loves reading all of our posts.

Of course, since her daughter is a contributor, I know she’s just a tad biased!

When it was time to go, Lucy, ever the gracious hostess, boxed up some cake for me to bring home to my family.

I hugged her good-bye and thanked her profusely for the abundance of hydrangeas.

Julie and I got in the car and as we drove off I started telling her how much the evening had meant to me.

And then I burst into tears.

Because that had all been just for me.

The thought…the offer…the picking me up…the hydrangeas…the cake…all of it.

Julie already had hydrangeas and could come pick them anytime from her mom’s house. She didn’t need to go over there that night.

But they knew. They knew how much I would love them, appreciate them, savor them, enjoy them.

I cried because I felt like I had just received a blessing that would last far longer than the hydrangeas would…even the dried ones!

I cried because I don’t have a lot of family living around me and these women have become my family.

I cried because sometimes it takes someone coming along and pouring into your life to make you realize just how thirsty you were for that kind of care.

I’m sure to them, this was such a simple thing to do. To them, it wasn’t a grand gesture.

But on that warm summer evening, I felt…well…grand.

Even in my grubby sweats!

So, Lucy, this hydrangea story is dedicated to you.

I came home with more than hydrangeas that day.

I came home with a refreshed spirit.

From the bottom of my heart, I thank you,

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