One of her wishes come true.
As I entered the room, Poppy’s eyes blinked open and a smile graced her lips. “The bed was cold without you,” she said and ran her hand over the side where I usually lay.
“I had to get something for you,” I said, sitting down on the bed. Leaning over, I kissed her lips. I kissed her deeply, smiling as her cheeks flushed in the aftermath. Leaning over, Poppy took a blank paper heart from her jar and scribbled something down.
I stared at the almost-full jar as she dropped the heart inside.
We were nearly there.
Turning back, Poppy shifted to a sitting position. “What’s in your hand?” she asked, excitement in her voice.
“Photos,” I announced, and watched as her face lit with happiness.
“My favorite gift,” she said, and I knew that she meant every word. “Your magical captured moments.”
I handed over the envelope; Poppy opened it. She gasped when her eyes fell on the subject. She searched through every photo with excitement, then turned to me with hopeful eyes. “First bloom?”
I smiled back and nodded. Poppy placed her hand over her mouth and her eyes shone with happiness. “When were these taken?”
“A few days ago,” I replied and watched her hand drop and her lips curve into a smile.
“Rune,” she whispered and reached for my hand. She brought it to my face. “That means…”
I stood up.
Moving to her side of the bed, I scooped her up in my arms. Poppy’s hands went around my neck, and I lowered my lips to hers. When I pulled back, I asked, “Are you with me?”
Sighing happily, she replied, “I’m with you.”
I placed her gently in her wheelchair, pulled the blanket over her legs and moved to the handles. Poppy tipped her head back as I was about to push her into the hallway. I looked down at her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I kissed her upturned mouth. “Let’s go.”
Poppy’s infectious giggles echoed through the house as I pushed her down the hallway and out into the fresh air. I carried her down the steps. Once she was safely back in her chair, I pushed her over the grass toward the grove. The weather was warm, the sun shining down from a clear sky.
Poppy tipped her head back to soak in the warmth of the sun, her cheeks filling with life as she did. When Poppy’s eyes opened, I knew she had smelled the scent before she’d even seen the grove. “Rune,” she said as she gripped the arms of the wheelchair.
My heart beat faster and faster as we drew closer. Then, as we turned the corner and the blossom grove came into view, I held my breath.
A loud gasp slipped from Poppy’s mouth. Taking my camera from around my neck, I walked out to stand by her side until I had the perfect view of her face. Poppy didn’t even notice me pressing the button over and over; she was too lost in the beauty before her. Too mesmerized as she reached up her hand and delicately stroked a feather-light touch along a freshly born petal. Then she dropped her head back, eyes closed, arms in the air, as her laughter rang out around the grove.
I held the camera, braced on the button for the moment I prayed would follow next. And then it came. Poppy opened her eyes, completely enraptured by this moment, and then looked at me. My finger pressed down—her smiling face was alive with life, the backdrop a sea of pink and white.
Poppy’s hands slowly lowered and her smile softened as she stared at me. I lowered the camera as I returned that stare, the cherry blossoms full and vibrant around where she sat—her symbolic halo. Then it hit me. Poppy,
Poppymin,
she was the cherry blossom.
She was my cherry blossom.
An unrivaled beauty, limited in its life. A beauty so extreme in its grace that it can’t last. It stays to enrich our lives, then drifts away in the wind. Never forgotten. Because it reminds us we must live. That life is fragile, yet in that fragility, there is strength. There is love. There is purpose. It reminds us that life is short, that our breaths are numbered and our destiny is fixed, regardless of how hard we fight.
It reminds us not to waste a single second. Live hard, love harder. Chase dreams, seek adventures … capture moments.
Live beautifully.
I swallowed as these thoughts swirled in my mind. Then Poppy held out her hand. “Take me through the grove, baby,” she asked softly. “I want to experience this with you.”
Lowering the camera to rest around my neck, I moved behind her wheelchair and pushed her along the dried dirt path. Poppy breathed in, slow and measured. The girl that I loved drank it all in. The beauty of this moment. A wish fulfilled.
Arriving at our tree, its branches bustling with pastel pinks, I took a blanket from the back of her chair and placed it on the ground. I lifted Poppy into my arms and set us down beneath our tree, the view of the grove spread before us.
Poppy laid her back against my chest. And she sighed, she held my hand that lay over her stomach, and she whispered, “We made it.”
Shifting her hair from her neck, I placed a kiss on her warm skin. “We did, baby.”
She paused for a minute. “It’s like a dream … it’s like a painting. I want heaven to look exactly like this.”
Instead of feeling hurt or sad at her comment, I instead found myself wanting it for Poppy. Wanting so badly for her to have this, forever.
I could see how tired she was. I could see that she was in pain. She never said so, but she didn’t need to. She spoke to me without words.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.