“Bloom Where You Are Planted.” This one phrase encapsulates the philosophy by which my mother lived. She and my dad moved 28 times during their 61 years of marriage—and I’m talking different cities, different states, different countries. My oldest brother, bore the brunt of it. I remember him telling me that he went to four different high schools.
Somewhere, early on, she adopted this modus operandi. As soon—and I mean THE VERY DAY the truck unloaded—as soon as the doors to the new house opened, boxes were unpacked, beds were made, pictures quickly hung in their spots and a roast would be in the oven. I kid you not. Next up, her mission was to meet the neighbors, find a church, a bridge club and a garden club to join. Goal: Get planted. Then bloom. (more…)
