Finding Home

     Shortly after my mother died, a friend gave me wishbone flowers also known as bluewings to plant. She did not know that my mother absolutely loved flowers, orchids in particular. So, it was serendipitous as it was very kind. Planting flowers in our back garden became my anchor as I dealt with her loss. Being with them in the early hours of the morning with my first cup of coffee felt like being with her. Later in the morning I would pull out the weeds that grew around it. Touching earth was like holding her hand again. And as the sun poured over my back it was like her entire presence holding me steady.       After a couple of years, I had to uproot all the flowers I planted including the blue wings that my friend gave me because of a severe case of rhinitis that inflamed my left ear and affected my hearing. The pollen from the flowers exacerbated my condition. It was another kind of loss, yet again. Needless to say, I had to do it. Otherwise, my ...

  “This is the part where you find out who you are.” This. Here Where everything hurts.  Where nothing makes sense. This. Here Where there is nothing left of your heart.  But others say there must be some  if not so much more left This. Here Where you are  But the one who birthed you, taught you love Is not This. Here Where you made your choice Where your choice made you  This. Here Where you are alone Where you are loved  This. Here Where there is no taking back Where there is only grace and mercy This. Here Where you can finally utter, I’m sorry Please forgive me Over and over and over This. Here Where everything hurts Where everything finally becomes clear This is the part where you find out who you are.