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A Desert Rose and a Journey Through Chronic Pain

Updated: Sep 9, 2025

Hi friend,

How have you been keeping?

I wanted to share a special moment with you—something that unexpectedly mirrored my own healing journey.


Summer 2021 - Where it Began

Let’s go back to summer 2021—lockdowns, uncertainty, and health challenges. That year, I traveled to Brazil to meet specialists for pain management, since so many things were shut down at the time.


One of the highlights of that trip (and I always try to focus on the good) was visiting a nursery filled with Roses of the Desert—thousands of them. It was run by my uncle, a retired major firefighter, who had created a healing garden where people could come to care for the plants and find peace through gardening.


As he showed me around, he told me how much love and patience went into cultivating each flower. “You never know what color it will be,” he said, beaming. “It’s like waiting for a baby to be born. It’s amazing.”


Then he said something that stuck with me:

“When I’m having a hard day… I come here. If I’m in pain, I come here. I take care of them, and they take care of me.”


At that time, I was in a lot of pain myself. And then, out of nowhere, he handed me a tiny flower in a plastic cup. It was just three months old.



Man and woman in a garden setting. The woman smiles holding a plant in a cup, while the man gestures. Lush greenery in the background.
Three months old desert rose, gifted with love from Brazil

“Take care of her,” he said. “Show her love and she’ll show you love back.”

I looked at the fragile little flower in my hands and said, “Uncle… how is she going to survive in Ireland? It’s cold and gray there. She’s used to desert heat!”


He just smiled warmly:

“She’s strong. Just like you. She’ll make it.”

And so our journey began—hers and mine.


Tending to the Rose, Tending to Me


When we got home, I tended to her like I tended to myself. I gave her infrared light. I moved her around the house to find the right spot. I watched her leaves fall off… but I didn’t give up on her. Just like I hadn’t given up on myself.


She was my little mirror. And I believed that when she was ready to bloom, so would I.

Potted plant with glossy green leaves and a pink bud by a window. Soft natural light and a textured pot create a calm mood.
First signs of blooming

I finally found her favorite spot: the kitchen window. The sun hit it just right, and it stayed warm at night. I re-potted her, messaged my uncle for tips, prayed for her, and—yes—I sang to her.


Last year, she showed signs of blooming. I was so excited. But just before she opened… someone moved her, and the flower broke off.


I was devastated.


It felt just like what I had gone through: I was doing well, making progress… and then the diagnosis of Lyme disease hit me. Another setback. Another heartbreak.


But I didn’t give up on her. I kept sho wing her love.



What this Desert Rose Taught Me


This year, just last week, she bloomed. A beautiful pink-and-white flower—finally, fully open.


I danced in the kitchen. I checked on her every hour. My son even set up a camera to capture her unfolding. I counted five buds waiting to open. Hope!


And then… it happened again. Someone bumped into her, and the bloom fell off—along with three more waiting to flower.


I cried. I prayed. I cried some more.


Because sometimes, when you’ve waited so long, it hurts so much more to lose it.

But my husband said something I’ll never forget:


“She’s strong, just like you. She’ll bloom again—maybe not now, but definitely next year.”

Desert Rose - Pink flower with white edges in focus, set against a blurred green garden background and blue sky, creating a serene and vibrant mood.
Against all odds, she bloomed - and so did I

I repeated those words to her—and to myself.


And friend… she bloomed again. Her second flower opened just a few days ago. She’s standing tall. And I’m hopeful the others will open soon too.


This little flower taught me so much.


No matter where you’ve come from, what climate you’ve been transplanted into, or how many times you’ve been knocked down… You can still grow. You will bloom.


Just keep going. Keep showing love—especially to yourself. And you’ll make it through.


Until next time, 

With love and light,

Michele 


PS: If This Spoke to You… You might enjoy these recent podcast episodes:

🎧 The Michele Roys Show


PSS: But You Look Just Fine -  Have You Read It Yet?

👉 Grab your copy here | Let’s connect: @michroys | Share this blog with a friend


PSSs: If something in this post touched you, I’d truly love to hear from you. What has helped you bloom again after setbacks?

 
 
 

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