"Thank you. Please come again," the saleslady smiled as I took the bouquet and exited the shop and hopped in my car.
It was a long drive until I arrived at a house. At the gate there stood a woman with a child, waving at me. I waved back and got out of the vehicle.
She approached me, my son reaching out for me. I kissed him on the cheek as he showed his teddy bear to me. I took him from the woman's arms and went back to the car with my son.
Soon, we arrived at the place. I locked the car and walked, my child in my arms as he held the flowers I bought.
We stopped and I put my son down, took the bouquet and gave him a flower. He slowly approached his mother with a huge smile on his face, her favorite flower in his hand.
Our son told us his stories in preschool, how his friends protected him from mean classmates, what he learned that day, how good the food tasted at grandma's, told her he loves us as he handed her the rose.
I also shared my experiences, but kept it short when my son yawned and told me he's tired. I noticed the orange hue of the sky and I sighed as I put the bouquet of flowers beside her.
We kissed her goodbye, her smile never leaving her beautiful face.
Then me and my son went home, leaving the cemetery.
