| ... a gift to me from
Rosalie. It was on a Valentine's Day when I had failed, perhaps for the
first time during our marriage, to buy flowers for her. I didn't intend
to do it, but it was a lapse, an omission, a failure of concentration.
No excuses. I just screwed up, maybe lulled by the possibility that
flowers on Valentine's Day no longer mattered that much. Turned out, flowers on that day do matter because this time she bought me a flower. A solitary pink beauty, placed perfectly on the dining table in a slender and delicate vase. The next morning it greeted me in the early morning stillness, illuminated under the warm glow of a light suspended just above it. I could not have placed it nor lit it any better than happenstance had done. Everything about the image is perfect, in my opinion. But more important than that is its significance and the lesson therein that I'll never forget. |
Page one Visual memories