I tell people I’m blooming. I’m in bloom. You are witnessing the ‘Bloom of Sharman’. Some get it, some don’t. I’m energized, I’m flourishing in a way I have never felt before. So exciting and overwhelming, I want to share it with the world, corny as it may sound.
The whole idea came from my mother’s greenroom. She spent hours in it, tending to her beloved plants.
“Good morning my sweet babies! Who’s thirsty today?” Arms opened wide enough to embrace an elephant, smiling like child finding a forgotten bag of candy, she greeted her beloved plants like that every morning in her sanctuary, “You never talk to us like that” I often thought. Still, her devotion and joy was infectious.
I could tell by the gradual neglect of her ‘babies’ that mom was beginning to fail. Because she could no longer wield the water bucket, my father lovingly installed a wall faucet and my husband bought her a new invention – a long water spray with an extra long hose. The perfect gift! She could sit in her wheel chair and make the rounds. Isn’t it funny how the idea of a ‘perfect gift’ changes through the years?
One day while helping her, she exclaimed “Oh my! Look, a new baby! I wondered if I would see it again” talking to a very temperamental African Violet who seldom bloomed. (Notice I said ‘who” not ‘that’ – I’d been converted) Tears ran down her cheeks. One bud! Talk about life’s simple pleasures.
I questioned her about the trade-off. “That’s a lot of work for a small gain, no? They only bloom once a year!”
“You’re wrong, Shash. That’s the point of life - to bloom. It’s not how often, or how much, but just be sure you do.” I wrote it down, knowing that one day I would find a use for it.
Enjoy my download of ‘Bloom’. It expresses how I feel now.