A Daisy A Day

Harry ambled up the path to the church on the hillside, clutching a letter he’d written just for her. It was early morning and he was to meet her there. As he strolled on, he looked to his left and saw the daisies that littered the field that extended out to the horizon. They were just opening their petals as the sun rose slowly in the sky.

It wasn’t much, he thought, but it would mean something to her.

He left the path for a brief moment to pick to biggest of the delicate daisies and held it gently in one hand. He studied the way it shone from its very core just as the light he’d always seen in her did each day.

He remembered the first time he met her. The light that shone from the very heart of her was evident from that first moment. She’d never been anyone but herself and the warmth that had always been her radiance was felt by everyone in the vicinity. Well, he thought so anyway as her warmth had always been there on the coldest of days and reached the very cockles of his heart.

He remembered the first thing she said. With a voice as soft as the petals that lay in his large, enveloping hands. “Hello, it’s wonderful to meet you.” The warm wash he’d felt at first sight of her was renewed with the gentle sound of her voice on his rather pink ears. He stuttered in reply, of course. But she’d told him many months later, as they were reminiscing, that the first thing she saw in him was a sensitive soul and that his stutter but also his genuine smile were signs of this.

He remembered the first time he held her. Just as he held this daisy with great care, he did hold her with just as much, even more. While he was gentle, he wanted her to know, somehow, that she deserved to not only be held but to be loved. For her nature was so caring and so genuine that it would be devastating to know that anyone could break such a spirit as she possessed. He wanted her to know, without words that she could put her trust in him that whichever way the wind blew he would always be there when she needed him most.

And the night that she came to his bed. She was visiting for a week but she’d had difficulty being away from home in the past. She’d knocked gently on his door and he’d let her inside in an instant. With tears glistening in her eyes she willingly let him take her in his arms. As they lay perfectly side-by-side, Harry stroking her hair, he made a promise from then and forever to be the home she needed when she felt lost and alone.

Harry looked up towards the chapel on the hill and smiled as he fondly remembered the times he’d shared with her. Taking the daisy and holding it close to his chest so it didn’t blow away, he resumed his walk. As he made his way, he began to hum what he came to remember as a song she frequently sang around the house. Her sweet voice had echoed through the halls like a lightly caressed piano or a chorus of beautiful bird song. While his heart ached to see her again and to hear the way her voice formed the perfect words, the mere thought of her brought such happiness to him in that moment.

There was a small kissing gate that led into the churchyard. Harry gently eased it open, not wanting to break the tranquil and sacred silence of his surroundings. He had taken only a few steps before his breath hitched in his throat. There she was, waiting expectantly and the sight was enough to bring tears to his eyes. It hadn’t been long and yet it had felt like a lifetime since he had seen her last.

He walked towards her and she didn’t say a word. He knew, however, that their love was beyond what any words could say. But he’d done his best to put it all down on paper just to do justice in expressing how much she meant to him and what she would always mean to him. He stopped two steps away from where she was and took out the letter he’d written for her. He unfolded it and took a shaky breath, knowing he was about to let his guard down completely.

Clearing his throat, he began:

‘Hello there,

‘You always said that to me when I woke up beside you in the morning, your hair glowing in the early sun that streamed through our thin curtains. Our curtains. They almost were ours. I’d give them to you now so they could be ours but that would hardly be appropriate.

‘You’d normally laugh when I say things like that. You always got my humour when no one else did, which is often enough. We always had little jokes and no one else understood the fun we found in the names we called each other or the code words or expressions we had for different things. But it never mattered because those moments were ours and always will be.

‘There are things I will admit I take for granted…like the clothes that I wore when we walked down the street on a winter’s evening. But the love you always showed and that was completely evident to me through everything you are and everything you’ve done right down to the gleam in your eyes, I will never take for granted. Love is something we should never look at lightly for it can heal the deepest wound or brighten the darkest of days. I can say this from experience.

‘So much reminds me of you and there are little parts of everyday life that connect to different memories in many different ways. The other day I went to our lolly shop. I thought it was about time to give that old place a visit once more. You always loved it in there with its sweet scent of sherbet and fudge. As I looked at the displays… it was almost as if… sorry… it felt as though your hand… was in mine just like those many… many times that it had been whenever we’d visited together.

‘But the truth is… and I know you know it too… y-your love will always walk with me and I will always look back on our t-time together with all the fondness in the world. Despite everything we’ve smiled through it all and… I’ll do my best to smile for you today and… and always.

‘And as I… leave today I’d like to say… I love you… I’ll love you until the rivers run still and… the four winds we know blow away. No one else will ever hear me say those words. They belong to you now… and always will.

‘I hate to go but I’ll be seeing you again… you know that.

‘A-all the love.

‘Harry.

‘PS. I brought you something I found on my way here. I-I thought you might like it seeing as it shares your n-name.’

He folded his letter up and bent down to lay the flower down in front of the stone that read:

In Loving Memory of
Daisy Marie Andrews
November 23rd 1995 – July 17th 2019
Aged 23
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
Matthew 5:8

‘I love you,’ he whispered as he let his tears fall. ‘I will always love you.’

Notes