Sunflowers, Sana, and the Fear of Moving Forward

Sunflowers, Sana, and the Fear of Moving Forward This summer, a dear friend visited and brought me two thoughtful gifts: a packet of sunflower seeds and a sun wind chime. She knew the deep connection between Sana, the sun, and sunflowers. Sana loved sunflowers. She was endlessly fascinated — almost childlike — by the way they turned their faces to follow the sun, always seeking its light. To her, it wasn’t just a plant; it was a living reminder of hope, growth, and resilience. Before leaving for India, I planted those seeds. I was told it was too late — that sunflower seeds should be sown weeks earlier, and they likely wouldn’t bloom. But I planted them anyway, with a conscious intent: “Sana, this is for you.” To my surprise, they sprouted almost immediately, and now, they are blooming. Every time I look at them, I see more than flowers. I see manifestation. I see Sana’s presence showing up in unexpected ways. I see the power of intention transforming into something real and alive. During an EMDR session, I uncovered a painful truth — my biggest subconscious fear is that by moving forward, I might let Sana’s memory fade away. The thought of life continuing without her felt like betrayal. But then I look at these sunflowers. I remember the manifestation of that moment when something I planted with love, against all odds, blossomed. And I realize: moving forward does not mean letting go. Life goes on, yes, but Sana goes on with me. She is woven into every act of love, every intentional seed I plant, every sign of light that finds its way to me. Life does move forward — because it must. We continue, we breathe, we work, we love. But moving forward doesn’t mean leaving behind. Sana is not gone from me. She is present in everything I do, in every intention I set, in every sunflower that bends its face toward the light. Yes, the future unfolds, and yes, we carry on. But Sana’s memory will never fade. She is woven into my days, as constant as the sun itself.