blooming

“I Am Blooming”

I am blooming. My wounds are no longer open. They are no longer bleeding. Not even a trickle. I do feel a copious flow stemming from their roots, but it carries nothing but love, forgiveness, and admiration. Yes, even for you, the person whom I feared would one day be responsible for my cremation.

Year after year, by your side, I lived in fear. “Mommy, are you ok?” is a sound I long to hear. Thanks to you, our son is no longer here. I can’t explain why, but I feel comfort and joy knowing that from that hell, he somehow departed. You became even more furious, for by a young boy, you were clearly outsmarted.

His courage and determination gave me the strength to finally break free. I thank him every day, wherever he may be. Is he secretly looking for me? This is something I think of often. Does he know where you are? At times, I wonder if he knows you made your own coffin.

I wish he could see me now, for I am blooming. Yes, I am in full bloom. A never ending bloom. Unbeknownst to me, when you inflicted pain upon my open flesh, God was seeding forgiveness and love. The more pain you inflicted, the more help I received from above.

Yes, I am in a never ending bloom. Thanks to God, my root system became deeply rooted in my heart. Oddly enough, the roots broke through my being, the day our son decided to depart. Did he know him leaving would heal my flesh wounds, and mend my broken heart?

When we met, the evil inside you wore a disguise. Even so, it should not have caught me by surprise. It did. Thankfully, your continued attempts to hurt me only strengthened my roots. Would our son approve of your orange jumpsuits?

None of that matters any longer. What does matter is that I am blooming. Yes, enduring all the pain you inflicted upon me made you weak, and it made me stronger. I am blooming.