My apologies for this heavy piece. I saw the word red rose and my mind just went there. Just a forewarning
Red Rose Means, "I Love You"
It was a windy, blistering cold day in March. The tears steadily streaming down my face left rivers of stinging burrows against my chapped skin.
I couldn't get away from the crowds of people fast enough as I put one foot in front of the other hardly seeing through my blurred vision.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. A broken man stood in front of me holding one solitary red rose. "This is yours", he said. "I'm Scott's father. His face and eyes were swollen and red, his face reflected the pain he was feeling as he assured me he would get his words out. "His last words were to you. He loved you wanted you to know that. He asked me what he could give you for your birthday that would say that he loved you and I told him a red rose." His father's voice cracked again under the pressure of reliving those last moments. "He told me, Dad...please put a red rose in her mailbox so she knows that I love her." I joined Scott's father in a deep, revearing and enduring cry - both realizing the importance of this last gesture of love...and of Scott thinking of someone else even as he was dying. It was a rather bitter-sweet moment.
His father handed me the rose and said this is from Scott because he loved you and I promised I would give it to you. He then stumbled off whaling...in his own grieving world.
The next day, I returned by myself feeling an overpowering urge to visit his grave-site.
I walked 3 miles to get there just to tell him, "I love you, too." The wind was much calmer this day and when I finally arrived, I stood amongst a sea of flowers...more flowers than I have ever seen in one place. The smell of roses and carnations permeating the air around me. I felt the rush of emotions swell up so strong that I found myself whaling involuntarily like his father the previous day.
There were many false starts speaking but I finally found the strength by concentrating on each breath until the words vibrated out of my mouth....."I love you, too, Scott" And with that a single red rose dropped from one of the stands. I knew it was him and for some strange reason I found myself crying and laughing together.
In that moment I knew that when we die, a part of us goes on. This comforted me. Our loved ones can hear us and stay close as we both transition to a new chapter in life.
This is my entry to @mariannewest's daily freewrite
https://hive.blog/hive-161155/@mariannewest/single-prompt-option-the-weekend-freewrite-2-6-2021
This is the kind of sweet sorrow you can only get from remembering the life of a loved one. I love freewrites that make me think and this has certainly done that. I can't help but speculate as to the nature of their acquaintance or friendship, or even how he died.
A wonderful freewrite
Thank you @johneyreacko It was a pretty important event in my life that would last many years. This is when I really started writing obsessively. Writing became my therapy. His death was a turning point. It was my 16th birthday. First love for both of us. He had asthma - a very serious form of it. He hid it from me but I knew...I just didn't know how bad it was. I had many experiences with him following this which also was an important part of the story....life. These ultimately helped me heal and find peace with his death.
Wow...I have to say I have missed this community. And I do mean "Community" You are the best. I wish I could share the votes with Scott but I'm sure he is looking down and smiling...or laughing (he had the greatest laugh). Means a lot to me that you supported this post - got me all choked up actually. THANK YOU Kindness definitely matters.