By Audrey Alma Meyer

My “Maman” always brings a flower bouquet,

When she’s invited to my house.

I rejoice every time.

Flowers arrive, colors arrive,

But most of all, a thoughtful intention

An affectionate attention, a beautiful mark of love.

And with that comes a cherished memory

Of my Zaide, the only grandfather I knew, my mother’s father,

Who would bring a giant colorful bouquet

To his daughter, to her family.

I remember my mother’s happiness.

I remember my own, touched by his gesture.

And I remember the pleasure my grandfather had

In bringing this phenomenal, abundant bouquet.

My mother would tell him he didn’t have to.

But in my grandfather’s heart, he did.... he felt it.

He wanted to show gratitude, to express emotions with his blimele.

For my Zaide, it was walking to the flower shop,

Choosing a great variety, paying for them,

Carrying the bouquet back home, and bringing it to us.

A simple yet expressive act of fondness.... definitely.

One that made my grandfather feel good about himself.

His spirit lifted as he watched ours rise.

Blimele do this for us-

For my mother and for me.

They are more than flowers-

Blimele are boosters of love.