Today’s post is a different kind of post — a general message of hope and inspiration. As I’ve said before, this blog is my personal journal and expression of love for my mom that I want to share with close friends and family. As her birthday was a week ago, it’s been an especially challenging time, and I’ve found myself in need of encouragement.

Today’s post is one that I’ve had on my mind for a while, but I’ve been waiting for the right time to write it. And now feels like the right time to give myself a reminder of hope. As for those of you reading this message, I would feel blessed if any of you took away that message of hope as well.

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Among the many things my mom did around the house, one thing she did was water the plants. One of these plants was a basil plant. Over the past year, I’ve taken over this responsibility. I know nothing about plants including how to keep them going strong, but then again, neither did my mom and she made it work!

Some of our plants have done better than others since I took over caring for them — I have to say I was pretty pleased about our orchids, all of which bloomed beautifully in the spring and summer. For a while though, our basil plant wasn’t looking so great.

All its branches had become brown, dried out, and leafless. The plant resembled a bare tree in the winter — something a basil plant should not resemble. I continued to water it for weeks, but it seemed pointless — the plant looked like a lost cause.

One day though, something changed. I noticed bits of green starting to emerge out of the brown, lifeless branches. And soon after, a few basil leaves followed. It looked as if fresh basil was growing out of sticks. I hadn’t seen anything like it before.

They’re not the best (I have said photography isn’t a strength of mine, after all), but here are a couple pictures that might help illustrate:

Vibrant life literally emerged from what had initially appeared to be lifeless.

Perhaps by now you can see where I’m going with this. The basil plant, to me, symbolizes life — human life. On this earth, the final and painful picture we see of our loved ones looks like the brown branches of the basil plant. But I know there’s more to the story: Yes, out of the brown branches follow the beautiful green leaves — restored life.

There’s a verse in the Bible that I think is relevant here:

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” 1 Corinthians 13:12.

I asked my mom to explain this verse to me about two years ago. She said that it meant that on this earth we see things imperfectly — we don’t know the whole story. But eventually we will see everything with perfect clarity.

And eventually, we will see our — and our loved ones’ — lives mirroring that of the basil plant: Colorful, vibrant life will emerge.

In my initial blog post, I mentioned how I choose to talk about my mom in the present — that she is. I’ve wondered from time to time whether people around me read or hear me say this and think that I’m in denial. But to anyone who might think this, I say, this is what hope looks like.

My mom, Sanam, Nikhil, and I attended a sermon some time back. One message has since stuck with me: If you believe a situation to be hopeless, it means that you’re believing a lie.

Hope can be found in strange and unexpected places. For me, today, it’s in a basil plant.