This is a simple, sweet story of blooming written with Spring in mind. It’s a new year (technically, lol) and there’s always time to start again. Take a chance on yourself!
It rained cats and dogs that Winter night.
I remember because each raindrop felt like a mocking pelt of ice slamming against my skin like a rebuke. The earth was red with fury and each hit of the shovel took a bit of my joy with it. I gazed at her cold, glassy eyes every minute or so as if willing them to open up. But her little mouth stayed firmly shut, frozen forever in death.
It has been one month now, I think to myself, cradling my cup of coffee in my arms. I know it will take more than coffee to warm up the parts of my soul that have gone cold since losing her but it never hurts to try. I gaze at the bay window, mad at the bit of sun trying to get past a stubborn cloud to brighten up this sad day.
It has been two months now. I have been to every flower shop in the area to ask for red blossoms. Like cruel fate, no shop has the flowers. I sigh, cradling my head in my hands as her glassy eyes taunt my mind.
Its three months today. The throbbing pain in my chest is now a dull ache in my heart. But still no red blossoms. I have settled for white peonies and they hang around the frame of my favourite picture of hers. I reach up to open the bay windows that have remained closed since she passed. But something catches my eyes.
Its red blossoms. Beneath the window, in that strange crack of cement where nothing grows. But somehow, against the odds, the blossoms thrive. I gulp in the warm Spring air as I feel my soul warm up again. And I know in that moment that she’s here with me, in the form of her favourite flowers.
Thank you for reading!