I didn’t always like flowers. I thought they were a bit silly, things that you cut and display for your benefit. But that was before, before I learned to love them. It was easy, really. I only had to see your smile when you got some.
You didn’t like any particular kind, you liked all of them. As always, your kind heart had space for everything and everyone.
Your smile was always warm. One could see oneself through your smile, it saw everything. And what you saw was always good. When you smiled, I felt at home.
I started to get you flowers for no particular reason. Just so you would smile. It became our thing, our way of communicating.
Now I only get you flowers on specific dates. I feel close to you this way. My way of still sharing a moment with you.
I get you different kinds, just like I did before. Various colours and shapes. Sometimes exotic, sometimes local. I never go to the shop with a specific flower in mind. I just wander until one of them speaks to me. Sometimes I get a bunch of different ones. You would have liked that as well.
I drop them off and as I do I smile remembering yours, feeling a little bit of home.