Perennial and Annual Friends (And the Lazy Susans That Lied to Me)

Not long ago, I bought the most stunning Lazy Susans from an Amish farm stand—bright, golden blooms that turned their faces to the sun like they were smiling right at me. The little handwritten sign swore they were perennials. I was sold. I imagined years of their cheerful return, a permanent splash of sunshine at the edge of my yard.

But guess what? They never came back. Not a single one.

I checked in spring. Nothing. Summer? Still nothing. Just some stubborn weeds and the faint memory of what once was. And if I’m being honest, I was genuinely disappointed. I thought we had something, those Lazy Susans and me. I’d made room for them. Tended to them. Believed they’d stay.

Turns out, they were annuals in disguise.

And isn’t that just like friendship?

Over the years, I’ve had friends who bloomed brightly for a season—people I laughed with, cried with, shared secrets and snacks and spiritual crises with—and then, one way or another, they didn’t come back. Sometimes it was distance. Sometimes it was disagreement. Sometimes life just quietly pulled us in different directions. And while it hurt to see those friendships fade, I’m learning to treasure the beauty of what they were, even if they didn’t last.

But then there are the perennials. The ones who keep coming back—year after year, season after season. The ones who know your weird quirks, your loud laugh, your tendency to ramble or ghost text chains—and still like you anyway. Especially for those of us who are, let’s just say, barely tolerable, these friends are nothing short of a miracle.

So here’s to the people who show up and stay. Who let us be our full, messy selves and still think we’re worth the effort. Who remind us, just by being there, that we don’t have to bloom perfectly every season to be loved.

And to the ones who came for only a while—thank you, too. You were beautiful while you lasted.

🌻