It may seem a bit odd to see a close up of a Christmas cactus with its lone pink bloom, in a photo whose quality won't win me any accolades. Not unlike its owner, my old iphone's camera is showing its age and doesn't fair well when it comes to trying to zoom in on things.Yet despite the fact I would have preferred a better source for snapping this pix, I can't begin to tell you how freaky it was to have discovered the little pink bloom in the first place.
This particular Christmas cactus used to belong to my aunt - Connie Farquharson - who passed away on July 21st.
When I joined family members in Renfrew for Connie's funeral, we stayed at my aunt's apartment overnight. Needless to say it was a bit surreal to be sleeping in the place my aunt had called home for several years.
Some items had already been packed or claimed by relatives, while others had been labelled by Connie to indicate who certain things were to go to. A tiny ceramic elephant I had once given Connie as a gift, had the words "KEN L." written in ink on the bottom. It was now mine to bring home with me.I had always admired my aunt's houseplants. In its prime, Connie's collection was a small jungle of flourishing plants in assorted coloured flower pots. It wasn't quite the great forest, creek and crops that surrounded her and uncle Don when they spent decades living on the infamous Farquaharson farm, but it was still an impressive collection.
As no one had expressed an interest in the Christmas cactus and the wicker container it was in, I checked with my cousin's to see if I could give it a new home at my apartment. It's been here ever since.
This will be my family's first Christmas without my aunt. Discovering her plant has sprouted a flower feels like a sign that a little part of my aunt is in some way here with me this holiday season.
A single pink bloom that means so much.
Related Link:
SCRIBBLES TRIBUTE SECTION IN LOVING MEMORY OF CONNIE FARQUHARSON - CLICK HERE
