Funeral Flowers by Sandy Brannan

Rayleigh tucked a shoot from her purple butterfly bush into the vase that was already full. She couldn’t quite explain how happy it made her to bring a little bit of the beauty of nature into her home, but she was grateful for the smile the splashes of color would offer her.

Turning from the bookshelf where she kept the ever-present vase of flowers, Rayleigh sighed as she pulled out her desk chair. She was grateful for the chance to work from home, but sometimes the temptation to forget her deadlines was almost too much to resist.

As she opened her laptop to put the finishing touches on her most recent writing assignment, she watched as her hand reached out to touch the computer screen. She couldn’t have stopped herself if she had wanted to, just like she couldn’t have stopped the memories that washed over her every time Michael’s face appeared on her screen.

Willing herself not to cry, Rayleigh quickly entered her password and opened Word. She should be able to submit this article within the hour, giving herself enough time to start the newest project one of her clients had recently commissioned.

Reading out loud to check for any mistakes her eyes may have missed, she thought about how strange her voice sounded in the empty house. Other than voices from the occasional podcast or audiobook she listened to, there just wasn’t anything to break through the silence she had surrounded herself with since Michael had left.

It had been so long since his footsteps had been the sound she waited to hear at the end of the day. It seemed like forever since his eyes had lit up as he pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. She smiled as she remembered how she had always asked him why he brought fresh flowers home for her every day. He gave the same answer every single time-“Just because.”

When he had gotten his orders to go overseas, she had put up a brave front. She hadn’t even cried when they had said goodbye at the airport, but she had pulled out her phone to take a quick picture. She never could have known it would be the last one.

Rayleigh saved the file before submitting it to her client. Needing a break before she read the instructions for her next article, she stood up and stretched. The vase full of flowers caught her eye. She walked toward it and softly caressed one of the tiny pink roses that made up today’s bouquet that reminded her so much of her husband. Michael had always indulged her, even taking her to public gardens around town for impromptu picnics. So many of her memories with him included the beauty of flowers.

When she had first learned that he wouldn’t be coming home, she had called the florist and demanded that the daily deliveries stop. The extravagant gift Michael had arranged for her was too painful now. The days leading up to the funeral were as empty for Rayleigh as the abandoned vase that looked so lonely without any flowers in it.

When her mom had driven her home the day of the funeral, she had brought a few arrangements with her. At first, seeing her husband’s funeral flowers had broken her heart, but slowly she began to understand what he would want for her. And she had allowed her mom to fill all the vases in the house, knowing the bright colors at least had a chance to cheer her up on her lowest days.

Shifting the pink roses a bit to allow the purple bloom a chance to be seen, Rayleigh finally turned back to her desk. These days she spent her mornings in her yard, cultivating the flower garden she had planted the summer after Michael had died. She had known how important it was for him to give her a little bit of beauty every day, and she had vowed to never take that from him again.

Looking at her computer screen once more brought Michael’s face back into focus for her. As much as she missed him, she was grateful that he had loved the Lord as much as she did.

As she sat down at her desk to resume her writing, she couldn’t help the joy that bubbled up within her. She knew Michael was surrounded by beautiful flowers right now. She couldn’t wait to see the magnificent bouquet he would have for her when she finally joined him one day.

Sandy Brannan is one of our regular contributors at Calla Press. You can find her work at https://sandybrannan.com/.