Monday, March 21, 2005

Daffodil Women

Women are fascinating but mysteriously unfathomable beings.

I couldn't help but think that once again last week when a certain female to whom I am endearingly bonded experienced a rather emotional meltdown. Let me hasten to add that neither I nor any family member was the culpable cause of said meltdown, which is probably the only reason why I durst blog about it.


The meltdown was triggered by a vexation that barely registered on my radar scope. Although it was something that I found annoying and something that I knew would have to be rectified, I was hardly on the verge of curling into the fetal position.


I couldn't help but ponder the nature of the feminine gender, which will forever remain enigmatic to those of us who are blessed or cursed (take your pick) with the Y-chromosome. The double-X gender is amazingly paradoxical to us. If my double-X mate is any example, there are times when women seem to assume spines of kevlar. They stand strong amidst the most tumultuous gales that the winds of life can summon. I have beheld this miracle more than once: beheld the strength of the kevlar spine as my own stamina and resiliency forsook me. However, I have also beheld the flower-like fragility which somehow co-exists with that kevlar.


Owing to the time of year, my mind likened it to the daffodils which have just begun to poke above the ground. In front of the house, by the street, they are subject, almost without respite, to the howling winds of April. Last year, for example, I never found one calm moment to take a photo of these gorgeous flowers, for every time I cast my glance in that direction, I saw their sunny faces being bent backwards against the cruel winds. I have seen them not only withstand the winds but also snow, sleet, and cold rain.


Yet, they thrive! They return every vernal season in greater numbers and with greater resplendency.

However, daffodils are also tender in their own way. It is remarkably easy for a careless clod to pick a flower, bruise a bloom, uproot a bulb, or crush a plant under heavy foot.


How alike are women and daffodils: strong, resilient, and becoming more beautiful with the passing of years. How alike are women and daffodils: fragile, tender, and easily crushed.


I was thinking that I had stumbled onto an amazing truth and congratulating myself for being a rather clever and in-touch kind of guy. Then I remembered that others have noticed this before. The movie was called Steel Magnolias.

 

9 comments:

Christi said...

Okay, I could be wrong here, but I was sure that men held the Y chromosome, not women. There is no such thing as a double Y, only XX or XY. If you have a double Y chromosome, then you have a syndrome, and supposedly that is what a lot of prison inmates have, and they are called "supermales". Ha ha! You just called your wife a supermale!

Okay, okay, I'll get off it already...Really, those of us double X people really are hard to understand. We have lots of hormones racing through our bodies that you don't even have to think about worrying about. I often confuse myself with the strange things I do!

Anvilcloud said...

Thanks Cristi. I got the X and Y thing backward, but I think it's all corrected now. That's the peril of having the Y, I guess.

swamp4me said...

I really like that "becoming more beautiful with the passing of years" part...

Loner said...

Blessed indeed is the person who can understand that both men and women have a strong, wild side that needs freedom and the softer underbelly that needs nurturing. This truth eludes some people their entire lives - but for those who know, there is the opportunity to enjoy both aspects of our mates - without being threatened by them. This was a lovely and refreshing piece - just what I needed today!

Guinevere Meadow said...

Great post! I am one of the double-X people and often have a difficult time understanding myself. Just be patient with us! *grin*

Mel said...

Great writing. But now I must what provoked your wife so?

blue2go said...

Men and women are both tough and tender. We show our softest side to people we trust to respect us and not hurt us.
Wonderful posting for spring!

Gina said...

I cannot count the number of times I thought I too had an original and brilliant idea, only to be reminded a few days later that it wasn't mine at all. Wonderful post! Your wife is a lucky gal, although I am sure Cuppa is very aware of that already, :)

A said...

Thanks for a cool piece. I like the imagery of women being like daffodils. They are in bloom here in Oregon right now. They have such long and regal necks (stems), and they are so cheerful and bright. I have a pot of daffodils by our front door right now, and on Sunday (the first day of Spring), I found one daffodil severed at the base of its long stem, lying there on the step. Don't know how that happened, but I picked it up and brought it with me so as to not let it die without being appreciated. I ended up giving it to a woman who works in Starbuck's and she was absolutely delighted, and put it in water so others could enjoy its beauty. I liked your part about how as women age they grow more beautiful (my paraphrase), as that is not what our culture teaches... but I believe it is the truth. I also think it is true that men become stronger as they age. Perhaps not physically stronger, but stronger in their character as they show more vulnerability. It is the vulnerability that allows intimacy to occur, and it also develops the sense of self. Thanks for your piece on appreciating the beauty in life, and in each other.