A Rose In Bloom

Better than I could be. Not as good as I’d planned.

Monday, January 21, 2008

A Very Personal Stance
She blew her nose countless times during our day together, as did I. It's the cedar and I feel her pain. I have in my overly stuffed bag a packet of mini, disposable tissues. She has in her coat pocket a handkerchief.

I think handkerchiefs are beautiful. They are often intricately patterened keepsakes. Often times they are heirlooms passed down from generation to generation. I see piles of well kept kerchiefs in antique stores and always think of their stories, the initials embroidered in the corners, the hand-stiched flowers, the laced edges; but I also think of the snot. I know that in fact the purpose of a handkerchief, aside from its pure decorative quality, is that it is a depository for mucus. But never in my life will I be one of those people who curses my allergies into a dainty pocket square. Tissues are disposable, handkerchiefs and their detailed beauty are not.

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