Fifteen years ago my mom gave me a beautiful African Violet. The first time it bloomed its leaves were barely visible beneath the purple blossoms. That Christmas, my grandsons were playing tag and knocked the violet onto the floor. I picked it up, put all its dirt I could salvage back into the pot and added new. But the plant never bloomed again. That is, until one year ago. Right after she died. Again blossoms hid the leaves. In an unidentifiable way, its blooming again comforted me. Many possibilities or explanations came and went through my thoughts, none strong enough to stay. Then, a few days ago, one year after her death, I noticed two new blossoms and an explosion of buds. I still have no explanation, nor do I want one. But with the violet’s renewed zest for life, it causes me to pause, stand apart from my daily busyness and bask in my favorite “Mom” memories.
Musing Moments 