The burden of sorrow never really goes away. It’s been five years since I lost my wife, Winter, but the hurt still feels new.
Our daughter, Eliza, was only 13 when it happened. Now at 18, she has become a young woman who carries her mother’s absence like a quiet shadow.
I looked at the calendar; the marked date seemed to taunt me.
Another year passed and another anniversary was coming up. The knot in my stomach tightened as I called out to Eliza.
“I’m going to the cemetery, sweetie.”
Eliza appeared in the doorway with a look of indifference in her eyes. “It’s that time again, isn’t it Dad?”
I nodded but couldn’t find any words. What could I say? That I was sorry? That I missed her mom too? Instead, I grabbed my keys and left without saying anything more.
The florist’s shop was full of color and scent. My steps felt heavy as I approached the counter.
“The usual flowers for you today Mr Ben?” asked the florist with a sympathetic smile.
“White roses. Just like always,” I replied quietly.
As she wrapped them up for me, memories flooded back to when I’d first bought Winter flowers on our third date; I’d been so nervous that they almost slipped from my hands!
She laughed then and said with sparkling eyes: “Ben, you’re cute when you’re flustered.”
That memory faded as she handed me the bouquet. “Here you go Mr Ben! She would love these,” she said kindly.
“Thanks! Hope so,” I murmured back before leaving for Winter’s grave where each step felt heavier than before.
The black marble headstone came into view; her name shone in gold letters under weak sunlight.
Kneeling down carefully placing roses against stone made grief stab through my chest as fingers traced over her name softly whispering:
“I miss you Winter… God how much.”
A gust of wind chilled me suddenly; for just a moment it felt like her touch telling me she was still here somehow…
But reality hit hard—she was gone forever and wishing wouldn’t change that fact!
Standing up brushing dirt off knees saying softly: “I’ll come back next year love… promise.”
Walking away something felt different this time but pushed thought aside thinking maybe it’s just grief playing tricks on mind again…
Returning home found silence waiting there too—I headed straight to kitchen needing strong cup of coffee badly!
Then saw them—on kitchen table stood same roses from Winter’s grave inside crystal vase unfamiliar to me!
Heart raced pounding loudly in ears while stumbling forward reaching out shaking hands touching petals—they were real impossibly real!
“What is happening? Eliza!” called out voice echoing through empty house searching frantically around “Eliza are you here?”
Turning around eyes glued onto those roses identical ones bought earlier dew drops clinging tightly onto petals just like before…
“This can’t be true…” whispered backing away slowly from table feeling panic rise within myself…
How long did stand there staring at impossible sight until footsteps broke trance?
“Dad? What’s wrong?”
Turning saw Eliza standing on staircase wide-eyed taking in pale face looking worriedly concerned about what had happened now…
“What is going on Dad? You look scared!”
Pointing shakily towards vase asking urgently: “Where did these come from Eliza?! Did YOU bring them home?”
Shaking head confused expression clear across face replying quickly: “No! I’ve been out with friends just got back… What’s wrong?”
Taking deep breath trying steady voice saying firmly: “These are exact same flowers left at your mother’s grave… Identical how can this be possible?”
Her face paled instantly darting between mine & flowers asking cautiously: “That’s not possible Dad… Are sure?”
“I am sure! Need go back cemetery NOW!” urgency filled every word spoken aloud…
Drive back blurred thoughts racing possibilities each one crazier than last—
Had someone followed?! Imagined leaving those behind?! Losing mind?!
Eliza insisted coming along yet ride remained filled uncomfortable silence throughout journey ahead…
Arriving near winter’s grave heart sank seeing spot where placed roses empty no sign whatsoever indicating presence earlier today…
“They’re gone how could they be gone?” confusion mixed dread filling air surrounding us both now
Eliza knelt down running hand over bare ground whispering gently :”Dad are positive left them here maybe forgot…”
Shaking head vigorously insisting firmly :”No certain placed right here few hours ago!”
Standing tall meeting gaze determinedly stating simply :”Let’s go home we need figure this out together…”
Back house found those same beautiful blooms still sitting untouched upon kitchen table separating us both sides barrier formed by their presence alone…
“There must explanation Dad maybe Mom trying tell us something important…” hopeful tone laced words spoken aloud
Laughing bitterly responding sharply :”Your mother dead dear people don’t send messages after death!”
“Then how explain THIS?” gesturing wildly towards stunning arrangement blooming brightly between us two frustrated souls seeking answers desperately now
Running hand through hair frustration boiling inside finally breaking point reached exclaiming loudly:”Don’t know okay!? Not sure what happening but can’t be true…”
Voice trailing off noticing small folded paper tucked beneath vase unseen until now trembling hands reaching forth grasp tightly holding note close feeling weight heavy heart pounding rapidly once more…
“What is it dad?” curious tone breaking tension thickening atmosphere surrounding room entirely
Unfolded note revealing familiar handwriting sending chills coursing spine recognizing unmistakably—it belonged winter herself!!
