Wednesday blooms

On Twitter, I was open about the things I missed during the home quarantine. One of those was the market flowers. The public market was only about one kilometer from where I lived, but I couldn’t even go there when the strict home quarantine was imposed. I used to meditatively walk to the public market with my reliable eco bag to buy fruits, vegetables, fish, and a bunch of flowers every two weeks. During the quarantine, food supply became a top priority, putting beautiful things that could have reduced the stress, such as flowers, on the back burner.

Flowers are special to me. In my parents’ house, there are always flowers at the altar. When we go to cemeteries to visit dead relatives, flowers are a staple. When I was a child, we bought flowers after attending masses. In my own small home with my husband, having flowers in our tiny kitchen brightens up the entire room. But for nearly a year, we never had any real flowers, which was, to me, such a downer of a fact.

A few months ago, a traveling flower seller passed by my husband in the street. He immediately told him to go to our house and call out to me, which the seller did. Could you imagine my delight? I later gave my husband a thousand kisses for the initiative. It was early Wednesday morning and the hardworking flower seller has been coming back every Wednesday. I bought from him bunches of white winter chrysanthemums to put on dad’s grave for my first visit after his burial. I even ordered from him a very beautiful bouquet of a dozen red roses as a birthday gift for my mother. My mother loved it.

Here are pictures of some flowers I bought from my Wednesday flower seller. May these flowers brighten up all your somber days.

I’ll continue to see you at the bright and hopeful glimpses of life.

Nancy