I have had a lot of things to consider in my personal family life in the past few months, which caused me some undue stress. Whenever family issues come up, I often sit back and meditate on thoughts of my mother and I ask her for signs that she is with me. She passed away over ten years ago, yet if feels like only yesterday.
My mother’s favorite flower was the gardenia, but she had a secret passion for growing roses. She had several rose bush varieties in an array of colors that ranged from red to vibrant pink, all growing along the fence on one side of the family home. Each season, Mom would cut a few for me when they were in full bloom. I can remember her cutting the pointy thorns, before tenderly wrapping a wet paper towel around the stems. In remembrance of her, I keep flowers in the small Lenox vase she gave me.
I don’t generally buy roses, but I do try to have the mixture of red and pink in the arrangements of flowers that fill the vases at my metaphysical center. An offering of flowers is considered a “thank you” to the angels, guides and loved ones who watch over us.
Right after Mother’s Day, we put new flowers in the vases. In the Lenox vase was an arrangement of five pink carnations and one red carnation. Though I know the flowers are there, I rarely look at them, specifically because I am usually busy in readings or focused on what I might be writing. My business partner, Sue, came into my office to ask a question and pointed to the vase.
We both looked in the direction of the vase. The pink carnations around the vase were deliberately broken in the very same place on each stem. The red carnation was standing proudly in the middle, unbroken! I approached it to investigate and took a photo. Then “something” (someone) told me to look up the meaning of carnations. Here is what I discovered:
Carnation, in the general meaning has to do with fascination and a woman’s love –which I can understand because my mother shared a passion with me for my work, and we were very close.
Pink Carnation says “I’ll never forget you, always on my mind.” This would also be true of both of us, even though she has been gone so long.
At first the broken stems alarmed me, and I quickly scanned the web site for the meaning of the only one left standing. I “knew” the message was from Mom, and it was somehow in that red flower. There had to be a reason for it being the only survivor.
Then I saw it. Red Carnation translated into the heart aching for another.
In that single moment of recognition, her message was received. She was telling me that no matter where she was, she was aware of what I was going through. It gave me pause, and I sat back into my chair and allowed her love to embrace me.
Thank you, Mom, for always being there. I love you.