He knew his final days were approaching. The cancer had spread like wildfire in his body. But that isn’t what pained him most. What haunted him in early morning hours…
The flowers are always beautiful. She keeps a flower box under every window. She prefers the bright yellows and oranges mixing with the deep purples and reds. The flowers make…
There was so much gloom and gray. The rain pounded for days at a time. The chill drilled down into her bones. And just when she thought she couldn’t take…
He brought the flowers every year. The year she undercooked the turkey. The year her novel was published. The year the bathroom flooded. The year her father was no longer…
She doesn’t care much for flowers. Between her job and travels, there is hardly time or energy to cultivate a garden. Except the window box that was there when…
Dad loved flowers. His green thumb specialized in roses and geraniums. On Saturday mornings, he used kitchen shears and that cerulean fertilizer water the way an artist uses a paint…