Flowers in the window

My mom was dying. She was at home in what they call home hospice. The nurse assigned was advised by her physician to give her morphine. My mom was tiny, fading and full of pain. The morphine helped.

This morning I watered the flowers I bought for her two years ago. They sit in my window now, blooming in the winter sun. You see, I never got to give them to her.

The morning she died I woke up connected to her. It was 4:30 in the morning, but I had to see her, she was heavy on my mind. Mom was calling to me. I got dressed made a quick stop at Juquila’s Market for flower’s.

Orange and yellow, bright pops of color. Mom was on my mind. After I placed the flowers in the car, I called her house to let them know I was on the way to her. Your mom just passed they said. We called the coroner.

It’s two years since that day. I look at the flowers blooming in the window. They have bloomed up and out of their pots. Their vines constantly craving for and crawling towards the light. Their blooms a bright spot in my day. Their blooms a reminder to stay present to appreciate life’s moments that are fleeting.