Do you see what I see? If you look closely, you can see. See those two little sprouts? They are a sign. A sign that with time, and gentleness, and nurturing, things will eventually be ok. And a little sunshine never hurts either.
A sign that things, life, will take root, and maybe, just maybe, one day we will begin living with our whole hearts again. That she is living through us, as was so eloquently pointed out to me as I broke down on Thanksgiving after hearing her voice in that of her youngest.
This is a very special plant. A jade that by all family accounts is about 60 years old. Originally owned by her mother in Ft. Lauderdale a piece was carried to Duke University in Durham, NC, I think, by Aunt Jo Ann then up to Washington D.C., where a piece broke off and made its way to Utah, where it grew to fill a huge pot, then lived alone in a ranch in Wyoming while others went to Hawaii, and eventually came back and adopted it once more.
I found this broken piece on the ground of the breezeway on the day that she died. She had meant to give me a piece but it didn’t happen. Or did it?
And so I took it home that day and planted it. And nurtured it. And waited.