Blooming at the Perfect Time

I’m home now, but I spent part of the last 2 weeks visiting a friend who recently underwent cancer surgery. It’s not my story to tell, but thankfully, the surgery went extremely well and the recovery did too. Thankfully that meant my visit was not one of caregiving per se as much as it was to just spend some time together in and around the various client appointments and professional obligations I had in the area.

In a variety of ways, the trip did not go according to plan as can be the way with travel. For example, during the first part of my stay, I was house and pet-sitting. On day one, the adorable but tenacious dogs I was caring for destroyed a brand-new dog bed - and the custom cover of a rare sports car parked in the backyard. Thank goodness there was no damage to the car! Also, some of the things I had planned to do -  either on my own or with my friend – did not come to fruition.

However, a lot did go well and there were plenty of memorable moments, including:

• Taking part in a hard and historic 5-mile race. 

• Taking several classes to expand my mind, connect with my body, and ground my emotions.  

• Visiting two beautiful yet somewhat hidden-in-plain-sight local parks.

  
  

At one of the parks, a group of older women was struggling mightily to take a selfie together. I stopped to ask if I might be of help and took several shots of the ladies in front of a gorgeous pond. Later, I gave a local bartender a positive thought card with a quote he liked as it aligned with his recent weight loss regime of walking daily.

For the second part of my stay, I splurged on the absolute cutest Air BNB! The spacious studio was in a historic castle that came complete with small but statuesque lions at the front door, turrets, and a few suits of armor.

The neighborhood was also quite walkable. I really enjoyed strolling up and down the streets, checking out the eclectic décor, furnishings, and landscaping of the houses nearby.

On my last day, I enjoyed a lovely day of fun activities with my friend. Though I was quite tired and was leaving early the next day, late in the evening, I had a strong urge to go for a walk. With no particular plan or destination in mind, I wandered past the flowering jasmine gracing the castle’s lawn into the cool night air.

A particular avenue called to me, and I followed it all the way to the water’s edge a few blocks away. There I stood for an unknown amount of time, allowing stillness to wash over me as I thought back over my trip. A few ripples of emotion crept up and were carried away by the clouds floating by.

Feeling complete, I began the walk back to my temporary abode, called back to the road I’d just traveled. As I ambled down the other side of the street, I studied a large cactus lit up in the darkness. Crinkled and waxy, its green foliage contrasted against the white walls behind it. I couldn’t help but think of my mother, Beth, who had a strong connection to warm-weather plants of all kinds, especially cacti.

“Mom, you would have loved it here,” I said to the wind as I had so often during the trip. I tried taking a photo in the dark to no avail. Sometimes the only medium to paint a scene upon which accurate depth is your presence.

Regardless, I continued to walk, stopping here and there to admire lighting, and landscaping, and to pet a sweet, little black dog named Liv. Her soft, curly fur calmed my sadness about leaving the next day and reminded me of how lucky I was to have been on the trip.

Leaving Liv to move on towards the final stretch home, I heard a couple nearby talking excitedly about something at first undiscernible. Moments later, as I strode closer to their voices, my eyes rose up to see the object of their admiration.

Bordering the archway on the cottage’s front steps stood two tall cacti. The one on the left was radiant in the starlit night with four large white flowers arching into the evening. I stopped in my tracks, speechless and in shock.  

A night blooming cereus. My mother’s favorite cactus.

This type of cactus flowers once a year with blooms that only last one night. The last time I saw one was almost four decades ago, when I was still living at home with my mother. My mom would invite friends over to see the blooms, which of course, as a teenager I thought was super weird and cringey. Now, at an age beyond what my mother ever knew, I understand her fascination with the blossoms and the celebrations she had around them.

Holding tears of joy and disbelief at bay, I asked if I could take some photos of it. Patricia, the excited resident – and coincidentally the name of my friend’s mom who has also passed on - opened her gate to allow me to get closer. I shared the information I had about the flowers and a little about my past experience with them.

Besides thinking of and speaking to my mom only minutes before, seeing this flower in this exact moment and circumstance was quite meaningful. The weeks and months leading up to this trip have had a lot of stress, change, and uncertainty in them. At times I’ve questioned a lot of decisions I’ve made and steps I’ve taken. But over the last several weeks in particular, I have leaned hard into my intuition, inner knowing, and gut feelings.

It has sometimes been extremely difficult to follow where the road has led, but doing so has allowed most of the heavy worries and anxiety I’ve been carrying to fall away. Still, there’s been a small part of me wondering if I was on the right path.

The moment I saw the magnificent blooms shining in the starlit night, I knew that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I also know that whenever and in whatever ways I am ready to bloom,  it will be at exactly the right time, and cause for celebration.

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