When angels revisit

I love the movie It’s A Wonderful Life.

I especially like the scene when Clarence, a want to be angel, is sent back to earth to save George Bailey.

Through his diligence and understanding of human nature, Clarence redirects George Bailey to reclaim his life. With this success, Clarence finally earns his angel wings.

On the morning of Thursday, August 28, 2025 at 6:29, I came upon a sign that showed me two angels had graced our home on Sweetbriar Road.

A gardenia bush on the west side of our yard had a singular open bloom at the top.

This gardenia had previously been full of blooms earlier during the summer. While I’m no expert on gardenias, I think it is rare for a gardenia to offer up a singular bloom after its traditional full summer blossoming.

This gardenia is a special shrub. It originally came from a cutting from my parents yard in Burlington, North Carolina.

I took this cutting and planted in the yard of our first home in Richmond.

I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to do this, but when we sold that house, I dug up that gardenia and transplanted it in our yard on Sweetbriar.

Despite some challenging winters and uncomfortable summers, the gardenia has thrived.

The gardenia was a favorite flower of my parents. I believe my father really loved the sweet fragrance from its white bloom.

I’ve written about this before, but I never forget the last week of August. On August 31, 1992, we lost my mother. Ten years later on September 1, 2002, we lost my father.

For some reason, on the day of my mother’s funeral, a singular gardenia bloom blossomed on the large shrub by the front door of the home of my sister, Lisa, and her husband, Eric, on Parkview Drive in Burlington.

On August 28, when I came across that singular gardenia bloom in our yard, I immediately thought of my parents. Perhaps, a horticulturist could explain why that perfect bloom appeared.

While there might be a perfectly logical science based answer, I have my own reasoning—two angels, Louise and Bill.

I still struggle to comprehend how my parents tolerated me. At times, I was a worthless disappointment.

Fortunately, I sense some of their better qualities did rub off on me.

Part of me believes that at 72, I’m still around because they continue to keep an eye out for me.

My old brain believes the appearance of that singular gardenia bloom on August 28 was their way of reminding me that despite the heartburn and the sleep deprivation I caused for them—they still love me.

As they glide around in that blue yonder, I still cherish and love all they did for me.

And yes, my old heart continues to cherish and love them.