Last month it was sparkly new, bright as the sun, and as dazzling as the engagement ring.
This thought prompted this month’s thought. It’s the 45 roses my grandfather gave my grandmother on their anniversary. The tea he made her every morning. Him peeling the potatoes. It was her laying out his clothes for dinner out, even if he was already dressed.
It’s sitting while one is on the operating table. Holding while one cries at the parent’s gravesite.
It’s that last goodbye.