Sami’s Blog: Cherry Blossoms

I’m writing from Japan, where I’ve been soaking up every minute of a very special trip with my youngest child, 11-year-old August. Travel brings the good, the bad, the unexpected, and the unforgettable—and we’ve had it all.

Let me start with the cherry blossoms. I have daydreamed for decades about seeing those pale pink blooms in real life, and they did not disappoint. They are breathtaking. Soft, delicate, and quietly joyful—they spark something deep in your soul. But what I wasn’t expecting was the wave of emotion that hit me. I was sitting on a park bench overlooking the Sakura and a still, peaceful lake, watching my son run around trying to catch falling petals in his baseball cap, turned upside down. I was smiling from ear to ear… and crying at the same time. Because in that moment, everything felt so clear.

Life is beautiful. Life is fleeting. Life is meant to be lived. And one day, it will end for all of us. That is the whole bittersweet point to our days. It felt as if it was just yesterday when my youngest boy was four years old and we would split a milkshake together after we dropped his siblings at school before heading home to watch Play School on TV. Then we had the toy Matchbox car phase and the Monster Truck years. Early primary school was a blur of craft and learning to read. We played at the beach and diligently went to swimming lessons every Saturday. I would tuck my treasure into bed every night with a glass of milk and a story. And now my youngest child in his final year of primary school. Gulp. Stop, Father Time! You are going too fast. All those thoughts rushed through me as I watched Augie under those falling blossoms. The Sakura only bloom for about ten days each year. Then their cloud-like petals fall to the ground, gone almost as quickly as they arrived. And I realised—so do these moments. I held my son’s hand tightly for most of the trip, knowing these might be some of the last times he wants to hold my hand in public. Some of the last times he reaches for me when he’s hurt, or hungry, or bursting with something exciting to share.

So, the cherry blossoms lived up to my lifelong dream of seeing them. I tried with all my might to burn their beauty into my memory. They will now forever remind me of my son. I would love a blossom tree in my backyard but they are not meant to thrive in our tropical state. So as a compromise, I am planting a jacaranda tree to watch it bloom every year. New adventures and new memories will come with each season and their falling purple petals.