Aside from its attractive color, this particular flower in full bloom was bigger than my cupped hands. I remember using its nectar to make bubbles when I was a kid.
It’s been awhile since she last saw her. It gets harder to remember her face sometimes as an adult, but her scent is unforgettable.
She came and went like the wind, showed up one day to loosely re-introduce herself to her, yet she hasn’t forgotten. The secretly sick woman was her mother, gone from her life almost forever, but now back to atone for her sins. Her time is running out unbeknownst to her.
This bottle is all that’s left to remember her, the flowers taken from when she left this world, her life, to fall asleep forever. She was forgiven even when she was missing, even before she reappeared. Had she known would she have come back sooner..?
“Don’t go”, she would have said. Nine years old, and she never had a chance.
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