Remembering Brian

Every time I went into the dining room yesterday, I noticed a pungent fragrance that I had never noticed before. I dismissed it at first, but after the third time, I sought out the source as being that of the Hoya carnosa
plant I have hanging by the French doors.

G's mom gave me this plant over a decade ago, not long after G and I were married. I so loved hers for its unique beauty, and I still do today. I have never seen anything like it anywhere else. G's mom gave sister plants of hers to her daughter and her son. Her own plant would rarely bloom, but occasionally she'd get one or two blossoms. Her son Brian got blooms and never a small number. His favored plant burst with these flowers whenever it bloomed. My plant also rarely bloomed, but for rare occasions. It got so that I stopped looking and would come upon the plant one day and find one lone flower in bloom and I would be thrilled to find this unexpected beauty.

Over the years, I noticed my plant bloom more often, and with more than a few blooms. I am still always struck by the delicate beauty of these flowers. I never noticed a fragrance from them. Until yesterday.

Brian and I shared our love for this unique plant, along with our love for Snoopy. I don't think I have ever met a bigger fan than Brian and I am proud to have some of his collectibles with my own in my home today.

It soon dawned on me why the plant was so fragrant yesterday, seeming to demand my attention every time I entered the room. Brian would have celebrated his 48th birthday yesterday if cancer had not taken his life nearly two years ago.

I believe in the beauty of a flower. I believe in the intricate beauty of a Hoya carnosa plant. And I believe Brian is still with us today.