Copyright – David Stewart |
It’s the fragrance of the flowers that
reminds you of him. The masses of pink,
red and orange swaying in the afternoon breeze against the backdrop of the blue
sky framed by the mountains he loved.
‘I am planting them now, so that they will
be blooming when you visit’, he said.
Drawn by the red blooms next to the bell
that hangs in the complex you move in for a closer inspection. It is the red corn poppy - the flower of
remembrance –a symbol of eternal sleep. It’s
bursting with life while he
remains in our hearts forever.
**
Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100
I struggled to write this week as we grappled with what life had to offer. In the end this was written in memory of my wife's brother Rahul who passed away this week on Thursday, an hour after he had talked about the flowers he had planted for our impending visit in December.