Happ Happy Easter!

 

She sprouted love like flowers, grew a garden in her mind, and even on the darkest days, from her smile, the sun still shined.– Erin Hanson

I brought the Easter Lily bulbs from my mother’s pot after she left us. Every year, she would wait for them with such joy—and they never failed her. They bloomed faithfully, right on Easter, as if they too understood the importance of the day.

One of the last pictures we have of Mom is of her moving that pot, filled with the lilies she adored. That image is etched in my heart. Although, someone took away the remaining bulbs from her pots, I had hoped something might still push through the soil. But nothing came up. I quietly told Mom that this year, I would miss the blooms she so loved.

Last year, mine bloomed for the first time—though they were late, … past Easter. Still, I was just so happy to see them. They kept blooming all the way to my birthday, and in those quiet moments, I felt as though Mom was sending her love, flower by flower. 

Then came the pests—and my husband, trying to help, pruned them out last month. I accepted it with a heavy heart, thinking I wouldn’t see them again. Before I left home for another city, I glanced at the pot, hoping—but seeing no signs of buds.

Today, after being away for a few days, I came back and opened all the doors to check on the plants. And there, in one of the balconies, in the pot where those bulbs were—they bloomed!

I’m certain they opened yesterday. On Easter. Just like they used to for Mom.

Another quiet, gentle sign that her love is still here, blooming softly in the corners of my world.