I walked outside this morning, looked out over my fledgling garden and saw a red poppy standing there. Only one in a sea of orange poppies. Just like you, you in the midst of all those other people, there you were. You stood out even then, still do.
You gave me a seed pack back in '06. Red Poppies. My girl and I put those seeds in the ground early summer and by fall we had a beautiful array of gorgeous poppies swaying in the breeze. Later in the season I collected the pods, gleaned the seeds and gave back to you a container full of seed to sow the following year. I threw my share of those seeds down the following year and surprisingly only a few returned. This year I have only one.
But that one was enough. It's alot like the way we gather and store and recall memories. At the beginning they then to flood in, are bright and filled with promise, numerous as the stars. As time goes by you find that when you go to gather them up they are fewer in number, but the ones that come in are still a delight to behold. And then one day you find that that skyful of memories you once held in your hands has been distilled down to one really great one. But that one, that one shining example of all the moments you had, is sometimes all you need.
I saw that red poppy today and thought of you and that seed pack, thought of Punkin when she was just a wee girl and when we gathered up those poppy pods in the fall. I can still see her in the flower bed, still see her shaking those pods out over the newspaper, when we gathered up those seeds to pass along to you. I see it all before me, all in the guise of a simple flower. Your simple gift is still radiating beauty, my love, all these years later.
Thank you, my dear.
Your WHMB (and Punkin, too)
You gave me a seed pack back in '06. Red Poppies. My girl and I put those seeds in the ground early summer and by fall we had a beautiful array of gorgeous poppies swaying in the breeze. Later in the season I collected the pods, gleaned the seeds and gave back to you a container full of seed to sow the following year. I threw my share of those seeds down the following year and surprisingly only a few returned. This year I have only one.
But that one was enough. It's alot like the way we gather and store and recall memories. At the beginning they then to flood in, are bright and filled with promise, numerous as the stars. As time goes by you find that when you go to gather them up they are fewer in number, but the ones that come in are still a delight to behold. And then one day you find that that skyful of memories you once held in your hands has been distilled down to one really great one. But that one, that one shining example of all the moments you had, is sometimes all you need.
I saw that red poppy today and thought of you and that seed pack, thought of Punkin when she was just a wee girl and when we gathered up those poppy pods in the fall. I can still see her in the flower bed, still see her shaking those pods out over the newspaper, when we gathered up those seeds to pass along to you. I see it all before me, all in the guise of a simple flower. Your simple gift is still radiating beauty, my love, all these years later.
Thank you, my dear.
Your WHMB (and Punkin, too)
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