I saw them as a splash of color. They drew me across the nursery like a wasp to a sticky mango.
Once my eyes saw beyond the showy colors, I recognized them as lilies and named them aloud. Then I remembered it was Easter.
For Easter, every year since about my sixteenth, my dad bought my mother and I each a plant. I would stumble into the kitchen on Easter morning and it would be sitting on the pass-through shelf — shiny pastel paper dressing up the business end, pastel enveloped card propped against it, my dad’s slanting scribble shouting out one of his nicknames for me.
Tooper Loop on the Daffodils.
Tinkerbell on the Crocuses.
And after my son was born – Mommy on the Lilies.
As though a toddler could buy flowers.
I planted some of them at our shared home in Jacksonville. The ginger grew three feet high and surprised us all.
Anyway, I saw these lilies yesterday and thought of him.
And of all the plants that wilted in their pots.
And of the bulbs that never even sprouted
(because you have to plant them right-side up).
As though a ghost could give you flowers
To remind you that he loved you.
Actually forgot the challenge part!
1) Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo.
2) The story can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or simply a short paragraph — it’s entirely up to you.
3) Then each day, nominate another blogger to carry on this challenge. Accepting the challenge is entirely up to the person nominated, it is not a command.