My Blooming Orchid
During the three months from when my mother became sick and began deteriorating, I kept thinking that I should say my last words to her - heartfelt things you’re supposed to say to your dying mother. I waited for the right words to come, and on the night that she passed away, all I could whisper was: “thank you for being the best mom. I love you very much.” Now that she’s gone, I’m finally finding the words and actions with which to express my thoughts and emotions.
My mother’s absence has caused seismic, yet imperceptible, shifts to my core beliefs and values. I now understand the great power she harnessed as a human, as a woman, and as my mother. Our relationship was symbiotic. She was the glue that bonded our family together and we were the food that nourished her. Like mycelium, the intricate roots of mushrooms that intuitively provide nutrients to surrounding trees and help them communicate with one another, she fulfilled our needs and kept us united. My mother connected us to her inner circle, her sisters, extended family and friends, and showed me what it means to care for family. Her daily calls and check-ins maintained our lifeline to one another and demonstrated how deeply she cared for the people in her life. Her presence provided a profound sense of security, reliability and comfort that I know now I took for granted.
After my mother passed, it felt as though an earthquake had rocked all of my connections, my mycelium. As time passed, I began to make new meaning, reevaluate and rebuild those connections. Though they are different now, severed and reattached with bandages of united pain and loss, they hold solid, strengthened by our unwavering love for her. I see her speckled in all of these connections - through the hearty laughs of my aunts, through the support and love of my siblings and dad, through my meticulous cleaning habits, and through the playfulness of my daughters and nephews. The essence of my mother will continue to live on through us.
Losing my mother has connected me spiritually with nature - something she tried to teach me while she was still alive, but my heart wasn’t open enough to understand it. A mother-daughter relationship is sacred, spiritual and codependent. I am born a daughter through her and she became a mother because of me. One cannot exist without the other, even after death. As I stare in awe at a gently swaying tree in the wind, a blooming flower, or a steady stream of a flowing river, I see my mom, and I feel grounded by her continued existence through my memories and the ashes we scattered over the roots of this Earth. These plants and rivers came from seeds and lakes, and I am reminded that this world was created by those who came before us, and will continue to thrive long after she and I are gone. I see now that it is only the love of a mother that is boundless. Her love was the only love that was unconditional and pure. Just as she believed that with love and attention, she could bring my dying orchid back to life, she nurtured her children in the best way she knew how so we could bloom too. I hold immense gratitude for my mother’s boundless love, and can’t help but shed tears of joy and pain when I witness the perseverance of my blooming orchid.
