Memories of Mom
I was in a funk. Even wearing my favorite indigo cashmere sweater didn’t raise my spirits. The scent of violet flowers from my Mother’s sachet in her bedroom just reminded me of her. It had only been a week and everything, just everything brought back the pain of her passing, The sun shining bright yellow in the sky only reminded me of how much she loved to sit by the clear blue water by their pool in her dark green chaise lounge and read for hours. She’d be wearing her favorite red bathing suit and her red, straw sun hat. I finally decided the only thing to do was to take a short trip to the local florist and buy the brightest orange flowers they had, sit down in her bedroom and read the book she never finished. If the tears came, I would just let them wash all the pain from my heart and spend the day with memories of Mom.