Memory Ochid

I have this orchid.

Years ago Mum and Dad moved into a house. An orchid was attached to one of the trees. Orchid stems are pretty ugly, all of thier beauty is in the delicate flowers. Mum and Dad lived in that house for seven years. During that time this orchid never flowered. Every time Dad got into the garden he threatened to strip this thing from the trunk and chuck it.

One year, it flowered. Dad pointed it out to Mum (I was visiting that day) and apologised for his prior threats for it was truely a beautiful flower. Mum accepted his apology gracefully and carried on doing the housework. Only when Dad left on some errand, did Mum's composure disintergrate.

Laughing so much she was crying Mum took me to look at the flower. It was fake. A cloth replica that Mum had bought. We laughed together.

It took five days before Dad noticed that the flower was fake. He laughed then too.

Such was Mum's sense of humor, such was my parent's relationship.

When Mum and Dad moved house again Mum took this orchid with her. It never flowered at her new house either.

Until.

Mum died 3 years after being diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. She was 10 days off her 70th birthday. Definately too young, too active, too alive to be struck down by the disease. Her death was a devastating relief.

Less than two weeks later the orchid flowered.

Funnily enough its flowers are the replica of the silk one Mum had bought all those years ago.

When Dad sold his house he allowed me to take any plant out of the garden. I took quite a few. But none so memory ridden as this orchid.

It has flowered every year since Mum's death.