My Baby Sent Me Gardenias
by Bunkie Burke Rivkin
My husband gave me a miniature gardenia bush our first year of marriage. I planted it in the corner garden, near the front porch. This little bush gave me many years of pleasure. After several days of freezing weather early in 1998, the little bush froze. My best friend Patsy's gardenia bushes froze, too. My wonderful 28-year-old son, Jay, died by suicide on May 21, 1998. Many friends were there to give us comfort. Patsy and I were walking in the garden and were discussing the cold weather killing our favorite gardenia bushes.
Three weeks after Jay's death I was walking to the garage and casually looked down at my poor gardenia bush -- not only had it begun to come alive with green foliage, but there among its leaves was one tiny gardenia.
As I picked the fragrant bloom, smelling its sweet perfume, a tiny voice in my head kept saying tell Patsy, tell Patsy. So I phoned her to share my finding the gardenia. My friend started to cry and left the phone. Upon returning to the phone, she asked me if I remembered her telling me she had visited Jay at Arlington Cemetery on Wednesday -- she had asked him if he was happy, not in pain and at peace, and to please let her gardenia bushes bloom. We realized Jay knew I would share the story with her and allowed my bush to bloom.
When Jay's wife Kristine returned to Atlanta, the little bush started giving us two blooms per week.
On September 7, 1998 we celebrated Jay's 29th birthday. Twenty family and friends joined in celebrating the 28 years Jay was with us on earth.
The morning of his birthday, the little bush had 20 blooms. I gave each person a bloom and shared the story.
In the last 32 months I've had gardenias in December, January, March, May, July, and September. Almost anytime I'm having a bad time and really, really aching for my wonderful son, I go to the bush and there will be one little bloom.
Some have shared their butterfly stories, or birds. I'm sharing my gardenia story with you. I believe our loved ones still share with us. I treasure my little gardenias; each bloom is a gift of love.
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