Flowers and the bereaved.

Flowers are wonderful and beautiful things. One day, I sent by interflora a big basket of tulips. After I had done it, I wish I had sent some orchids. Tulips don't last.

"A florist has just delivered the flowers – I couldn’t believe it. I was actually having a really horrible day – lonely and rather teary, and your flowers put a huge smile on my face.

They are beautiful pink tulips which are one of my favourite spring flowers – how did you know?

It was sooooooo thoughtful and loving of you – thank you so much." K.

"Glad you liked them. I like tulips too, but the practical person in me wished I ordered orchids. That would last longer." I replied.

K. replied," Sure, orchids may be more practical, but tulips are tender and special, and come from the heart."

We were told that Andrew was dying from day one. A friend, Gwen brought a pot of orangy brownish Chrysanthemums,aka Mums as they are called in USA. It was when I was still warded. Flowers were not allowed in the ICU.

She said,"you can grow it when you go home."

I took it to the nurses' home where the hospital gave us a courtesy room. I hardly took care of it as I was in ICU and went to the room only to sleep. Andrew died 55 days later, I went and I cleared the room and took all my stuff home two days later.

I planted Gwen's Mums in a corner of the garden by the patio. Often I would sit at the patio and look at what I had called Andrew's plant. I sat and reflected and wrote and wrote all that had happened to me. Did the plant give me comfort or sorrow? It was significant enough and remained in the niche of my brain for me to always think of the little plant whether I see Mum flowers.

It was last year, around this time that I finalised my book to be released on Good Friday. The memories of the Mum plant were a vivid as ever.

Recently, I went to a friend's house, and I saw her Mum plant. It looks just like Andrew's Mum plant. A little flowering orangy brownish plant. I didn't have my camera. I asked my friend if I could come back and take a photo. I didn't tell her why.