This weekend the weather turned cold. The summer plants were pretty much gonners! I cut the droopy leaves of the hibiscus, and the canna. I figured that the pumpkin patch was also in this category since most of the leaves were droopy. I didn’t have the heart to cut the leaves so I left them to droop in sadness. Today I arrived home a bit early by this semester’s standards and I was met not only with a shot of pumpkin liquor (thank you sweet fella!) but with the unstoppable Magic Wedding Pumpkin Patch! The vine looks healthy and there are even some new! How in the world is this possible?!? I’ve decided not to question it; I’m thankful that we even harvested three pumpkins…but a fourth?!? Why this is all a miracle.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about chances…especially third chances recently as our one year wedding anniversary approaches. Where has the time gone? And how in the world after so many bad tries did I hit a homerun. Ohgoodgod, I’m using sports metaphors? No, no, no! Let me try again. In Dracula, there is the not-so-subtle emphasis of the number 3. Arguably intentional and Catholic-based (think Trinity- Father-Son-Holy Spirit… although as a kid we said Holy Ghost and I always liked the idea of ghosts connected to the church ;D ), in the third chapter of the novel Jonathan Harker meets three vampire ladies. Later when Harker breaks into Dracula’s bedroom, he discovers The Count in the third coffin. Lucy also has three suitors but this really isn’t a post about Dracula. But the novel does follow a religious connection to the number 3. For the novel, it is connected to Catholicism but we know that the Catholics *borrowed* from our Pagan friends. The triad. The symbol of unity—mind, body and spirit. Past-Present-Future. The oldest of Indian symbols, Chintamani, which is found in the Temple of Heaven in Beijing, is the sign of happiness and appears in the Three Treasures of Tibet.
Threes. Three pumpkins from my third wedding to my third husband and his third wife. We’re all mixed up in threes.
But, then my fella is also a first… he’s the first person who has ever acted like a best friend to me. He’s also the first partner who has ever wanted me to truly be me—not a more grown-up version of myself, a toned down version of myself, or an altered version of myself. He really does like me as I am. He really does like me for me. That’s a pretty cool thought as we approach our anniversary.
Some say that love is the most important thing to share between individuals. My fella disagrees. He will argue that understanding is more powerful than love. Understanding another individual in many ways is an act of love but understanding another, truly understanding why someone does, acts, and breathes the way that she does... well, that is magic!