By Ellen Andersen
It was an ordinary day at work. I’d been in and out of patients’ rooms, developing discharge plans for them when they left the hospital and returned home. In the middle of the day, someone came to the office and asked for me. When I answered, he came in with a bouquet of half a dozen red roses.
Shocked, I wondered what they were for. The card attached said they were from my boyfriend, Doug. It wasn’t Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t my birthday. It wasn’t an anniversary. Why in the world would he send me roses? I had no idea, and the card didn’t provide any clue either. It just said, Hi Ellen. Hope you’re having a good day. Love, Doug.
Doug was romantic, but he didn’t have a lot of money. I couldn’t figure out why he would just decide to send me roses. We’d been dating for about six months or so, but this was a lot.
“Wow! Is it your birthday?”
“No, I have no idea why he sent them.”
“Really? Is it your anniversary?”
“No. I really don’t know why he gave them to me.”
My husband’s never sent me roses”, my supervisor said. “You must be really special to him”
“I guess so…” I said, still puzzled.
The next time we saw each other, Doug asked me if I’d gotten them.
“Yes, I did. What made you do that?”
“I was just thinking about you and wanted to let you know”, he said.
“Wow. Thanks “I said. “That was really nice. It made me feel special. Everybody at work asked me why you’d sent them and I couldn’t tell them. It was funny because they didn’t believe me.” He just smiled.
It’s been nearly 20 years and I still have no idea why Doug sent flowers that day. But I think I’ll always remember it. It brightened my day and told me how much I meant to him.