Yesterday I took the fuzzy girl for a long walk. I would have taken her to our favorite hiking spot, seeking the solace of nature but traffic was a bear and I wasn’t sure if I’d run out of daylight. While we were walking I saw a garden of daffodils. They made me cry.
When Mom was a girl, my Nana would pick daffodils on Easter morning. Then, she would pin a daffodil on each of the girls for church service. Daffodils were always a special flower for my Mom and Nana. My Mom told me this story a long time ago and how daffodils always reminded her of her mom and Easter morning.
The year my Nana died, I started sending my Mom daffodils for Easter. So when I saw those daffodils, it reminded me that I had no where to send the flowers this year. I realized there isn’t even a grave I can lay them on. So I cried.
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