Page 5 of Poetry of Flowers

Page - November 11, 2017

We all have a page in our journal

That looks older than the rest

We keep coming back

My page is full of tears

Pain

Sorrow

Oblivion

But never acceptance.

ChapterOne

MATILDA, AUGUST 31ST, 2022

The rain felt like the sky was crying with me, crying about a soul that shouldn’t have left this soon.

The ground was icy under my bare feet, and I was sure I would catch a cold, but I couldn’t care less. Since the red dye that came out of my hair from the rain will dye it an ugly pink color, I’d probably have to throw away my white shirt. I’d always liked coloring my hair; I just never liked the mess it caused. Whether it was during the process or afterward.

“Over and over again, Olivia tells me to stop dying my hair, but I always tell her it was fun to see which shades helped me look less like a zombie. Besides, it’s one of the few things that makes me feel alive these days. It’s just little streaks; I didn’t dye my entire head,” I explain to the gravestone in front of me.

In the last few years, I’ve learned it helps to act like she still listens to me, as if she still sat in front of me.

“You would like it; you always loved fancy stuff. Tiny things that aren’t normal to others. That’s why I started, you know? I tried blue and then green, but nothing screamedme. Kayden bought me a dark red shade that fit my maroon lipstick; it was so perfect.” I smile to myself as I tell her the story of what happened four months ago. I always have so much to say that I forget some important details. Most of the time, I get distracted by talking about our memories and the ones we wouldn’t have a chance to ever recreate.

“He even helped me dye it. I know, shocking! Grumpy Kayden Kidd could dye hair better than a hairstylist. Honestly, he should overthink his future career,” I chuckled quietly. Sometimes it feels like I’m going crazy. I wrap a streak around my fingers and let the rain color my hand pink too.

I swallowed and looked back up at the marble gravestone.

JOYELLE AVRIL †

May 21 _ May 17

1983 2013

beloved mother

and wife

Forever loved and never forgotten ?

“We all miss you, Mom. I wish you could see Remy hanging out with the new friends he made at school. I’ll make sure they are all very nice to him, I promise. He also tried broccoli for the first time in years yesterday, and he actually liked it. I’m going to make the broccoli pasta you always made for him tomorrow.”

I think I never really learned how to overcome my grief. It’s been nine years since my mother’s accident that cost her life, and I still walk an entire hour to the cemetery every second day, just so I can spend some time with her. It was Sunday, and I should have been at church with my father and brother, but I had told Dad I wasn’t feeling well just so I could come here.

I was about to turn seventeen the following week, and I didn’t want to get older without her. Not when we had so many plans together for the future and will never get a chance to take these adventures as mother and daughter.

Remy doesn’t really remember Mom, and that’s just the worst.

He will never know what a wonderful woman she was. It pains me.

“You’ll catch a cold,” a familiar voice said behind me as the rain stopped falling, but it only stopped falling on me. It still coated the gravestones surrounding us. I turned around to see Kayden standing behind me, holding his umbrella over us both.

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