For James by Sandy Brannan

Charlotte turned the corner and felt her breath catch in her throat. Reaching up to wipe away the tears that hadn’t stopped flowing all morning, she almost let herself smile. It wasn’t the right time of year, but she knew what she was seeing was real. The blue hydrangea, almost a lilac color, had opened up and was swaying gently in the breeze.

She reached down and snapped it off the bush, knowing it was a gift put there just for her.

As she made her way to their porch where she and James had just two days ago enjoyed their morning coffee, she sat down in her seat alone at the table meant for two. A table that she would now sit at alone.

Placing the flower in the mason jar already filled with treasures from their yard, Charlotte couldn’t help the gratitude that made its way to her heart. James had made it so easy on her, loving her in death just like he had been doing all their life.

The hydrangea bloom was a final gift, a reminder of the love they had shared, a love they would always share.

As she let the sun dry her tears, she sat on their porch and drifted back in time. Her memories took her to their wedding day, to the bouquet of hydrangeas mixed with baby’s breath that had kept her hands from shaking as she walked down the aisle. 

She remembered all three times James had brought hydrangeas to the hospital. The two blue ones when their sons had been born and finally a pink one for the daughter they had prayed for.

Through their years, he had used her favorite flower to show his love for her. 

And now, hours before she would get in the car with their children and make her way to say her final good-bye, he had given her one last gift.

She was grateful for the man who had loved her unconditionally, had cared for her more than himself, and had, even in death, found a way to make her smile.