Every time I visited my dear friend Miss Marie’s home, I’d marvel at her Christmas cactus in the south window of her kitchen. I remember how she told me it was her grandmother’s. When her grandma died, Miss Marie inherited it. That cactus was well over 100 years old!
The past two years my Christmas cactus hasn’t bloomed. Recently I decided to re-pot it to see if that helped. Perhaps that is what did the trick to entice this blossom to burst forth, along with two other small buds that will eventually bloom, also.
But I can’t help but think it’s a wink from Miss Marie who passed away three weeks ago today. Not a day has gone by since she died that I’ve not thought of her. While her transition has her blooming in a new way, this cactus bloom has me thinking of how absolutely beautiful it must be wherever she is.
Signs of spring are showing up more and more each day. Just the other day, the sun abundant and warm, the snow melting and the sound of water rushing through the sewer grates, and the chirp of Robin’s who have returned, I found myself talking to Miss Maire. “Oh, Miss Marie!” I said. “I wish you were here to see spring just one more time.”
She loved birds and I’m sure she would have been tickled to see them. But then I smiled and tried to imagine how exquisitely beautiful it likely is where she now resides.
Spring is in bloom just as Miss Marie is blooming in a new place in the cosmos.
P.S. I hope to be back to more blogging again. I’ve missed it. But I also needed to center my focus on the writing of my new memoir. I’m happy to say I now have the manuscript printed and am editing it line-by-line with a brand new red pen. Next, it will be off to the editor. But now without the actual writing of my book, I’m feeling the call to return here to write when the niggle tickles me!
XO, Barbara