Welcome to the magical world of transformation…

Read {part 1}
Read {part 2}

A part of me shut down with the death of the pink blossom on that spring day so long ago. Today, I reach into the depths of my memory to revive my five-year-old self complete with all of her unbridled joy, excitement, love, and adoration. I wrap her in my arms and tell her, “Its okay. You’re okay and you can cry if you want to.”

I can feel her collapse in my arms and cry with relief. She has been holding back the tears and the pain for almost thirty years.

“Why did she do that to me? Why is she so mean?” she asks in between sobs.

“She’s just afraid,” I respond. “She doesn’t know how to accept your gift of love. But, it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t love you. She just doesn’t know how to show you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Grandma’s had a tough life and it’s not safe for her to love like you do. And you know what?”

“What?”

“You can show her how to love.”

“I can?”

“Yup.”

“How?”

“Just by being yourself.”

She shakes her head in disbelief, “No way!”

“Yes way! Because you are kind, loving, and generous. Let’s not let her or anyone else take that away from you. What do you say?”

“Okay!”

“How about we take this precious pink blossom and put it in some water?”

“Sure.”

“And then we can take a picture of it to hold in our hearts and mind forever. Every time we look at it we can remember that Grandma is fragile just like this blossom and we need to water her with love.”

“Grandma won’t like it if we get her wet,” she warns seriously. Then we look at each other and burst into giggles.

Tags: childhood, Family, healing, nurture, Relationships

{note: read part 1 first}

When we arrived at Grandma’s, she was waiting at the door. Nancy and Brenda had already knocked and gone in. In fact, they were out back playing with Uncle Jon.

“Grandma,” I squealed while running up the walk, “Look what I brought for you. It’s a flower!”

I presented her gift in pride and joy waiting for her face to light up in pleasure. She took the small blossom from my fingers and placed it in the palm of her hand. “Thank you, Cassandra,” she said and turned away to enter the house.

“Do you love it, Grandma?” I asked following her into the living room.

“Yes, it’s very pretty, Dear,” she replied. “I’m going to put it right here.” She placed it on top of the television then turned and looked at me, “Did you know that now that you picked it it’s going to die?” she asked me.

“What?” my heart sank in disappointment.

“It’s okay that you picked it this one time,” she went on, “but if we picked all the blossoms there would be no more flowers and trees to enjoy.”

The once beautiful pink trophy sat on top of the TV now as a symbol of my guilt and shame. Could it be true that I was killing the pretty flowers and trees? But, I loved them so much. That couldn’t be possible. Could it?

I turned back to Mom, “Did I kill the flowers and trees, Mom?” I whispered trying to hold back the tears threatening to escape at any moment.

“No, of course not,” she said. “Now go play with your sisters.”

But, I didn’t hear her. I could only hear the fear in my head telling me how bad and wrong I was. How could this be? I just wanted to surprise Grandma and to make her happy. I wanted her to see how much I loved and adored her. Now it was ruined and my joy was trampled by Grandma’s frightening words.

Tags: childhood, Family, grandma, healing, Relationships