Pickles or Petals, it’s all Perspective

“Pickles…” she said. Darah was waiting in a very brightly lit rainbow-colored room. All she could remember was being in her living room and eating pickles when darkness overcame her and all of a sudden, she was in this room. She was waiting for something, what it was, she had no idea, but it was obvious that was what the room was for. There was a clock on the wall, all white with black numbers and little lines, and red hands. It was like the ones she watched so patiently in school back when she was young. The chairs were bright orange with black legs and padded arms. “These chairs are actually quite comfortable.” She mumbled to herself. Looking up past her hands and the chairs, she started to realize more and more people showing up in the same room. There wasn’t a door to the room, only chairs and they would be empty then all of a sudden Darah would look back at the same spot, and there was a person sitting there. Just as soon as these people appeared, they would also disappear at random times. “That’s strange...” Darah thought.

After becoming familiar with her surroundings, Darah closed her eyes and tried to recall her last memory. She was sitting in her living room on the couch, the faded giraffe print lining the cushions. In front of her there was a bright blue bowl with two large pickles in it. As she placed one in her mouth, the crunch and tanginess from the dill engulfed her whole mouth, sending her mind into bliss. She was still unsure if she drifted off to sleep or if something had happened that she did not recall. Death by pickle bliss? Darah chuckled to herself, sure there was a very small likelihood of that happening, but anything could be possible, she thought.

Her eyes opened again. Still in the rainbow room, the clock ticking, echoing in her mind. What was she supposed to be waiting for? What was everyone else doing, waiting in the room? The old man who sat beside her suddenly looked at her with bright blue eyes and a wisp of white hair upon his head. “Do I know you?” He asked, finishing his question with a smile. Darah looked at him inquisitively and replied “My name is Darah, I don’t know where this is or what I am doing here, so I doubt you know me.” The old man nodded and responded, “I am Frederick, I feel like I have known you forever, yet I do not know you at all.” He said. “It’s like all my memories put all your features together to create the person I thought I loved, I lost my wife five years ago, are you her?” He asked. Darah had no idea what Frederick was talking about. She was young, about age nineteen and had never known this man in her life.

To try and be polite and not upset the old man, Darah asked, “Tell me more about your wife.” Frederick smiled, clearing his throat. “Well she was this beautiful woman with bright red blonde hair. She seemed to smell like a different kind of flower each day, always coming out of the garden with a bright smile on her face. She always had something happy to say about her plants, like her rhododendrons were vibrant and glowing, her sunflowers were growing and could grow as tall as the mountains. My favourite phrase of hers was, if not today, then tomorrow, because when rain or darkness comes, we all shall rest and life will keep growing the next time the sunshine hits.” Darah looked at the old man, seeing his eyes peering in front of him and a smile on his face, as if watching what he was describing was happening right in front of him.

“Your wife sounds absolutely lovely, I am not her, but I am sure that no matter where she is, she is still that wonderful person.” Darah calmly said. Frederick smiled and nodded. “All I remember is sitting on my couch eating pickles.” Darah said to Frederick, with a sigh. “Well that seems a bit odd, do you have a memory tied to eating pickles?” Frederick asked. Just then Darah started remembering what happened right before she started eating pickles. Her boyfriend Darius and her had just broken up. The first man she every truly loved, everything about him. Even when he would walk outside to go for a walk and start smoking, a “bad habit” that she never took up but always knew that was just a part of him. It didn’t matter what was happening, she always believed in her heart that he was always going to be there for her, and her for him. Then her life hit a roadblock, everything in front of her turned to chaos. Her family wasn’t the same, her friends disappeared and she was there on her couch, her only comfort, alongside the pickle she held with a fork. What was she supposed to do with her life? Lost in a world with one of her biggest directions gone, disappearing into the abyss with no where to go.

She sadly turned to the old man and said glumly, “Pickles were my boyfriend’s favourite food, we would always joke about how they were cucumbers dressed up to be fancy. He has left though, I guess pickles will never be the same to me.” Frederick with an apologetic look on his face responded, “Well, maybe whenever you eat pickles you can still remember the happiness they brought you, even when there was pain. Although you may not have the people you once thought would be in your life forever, you can still have the memories to know that when times get tough and people leave, there will always be something positive left behind.” Frederick continued, “My wife was absolutely amazing, I went through some painful relationships and learnt a lot of hard lessons, sure there were people I loved to spend time with, but at the end of the day, she was the one. She knew how to put a smile on my face even though she struggled with her own issues, right when she thought she was about to give up, she got back up. That determination, that drove me to do better myself. One day, you’ll find a man like that and can call him your husband. Some people will be in your life for a minute, a season or a year, but I promise you that there will always be people who stick by your side if you let them. All you have to do is trust yourself and know that everything happens for a reason.”

Darah nodded, although sad, she knew that the old man meant well and locked up those meaningful words in her memory. As she looked back at the chair where Frederick sat, she saw him starting to fade. His face had a big smile on it. He looked at her and said, “No matter where you are in life, no matter what gets thrown at you, know that you are your heart, and in turn others are your heart too.” And with that the bright orange chair was empty. Confused, Darah closed her eyes for a minute, then opened them again to see that her comfy couch and bowl of pickles were right in front of her all along. Maybe she was just dreaming of the waiting room, maybe it was real, but she knew that taking a moment to pause and reflect on the good in her life would help her move forward. And with Frederick’s wisdom, maybe she could walk with more sense of peace in her step and quietness in her mind.