As I changed out the fall flowers for Christmas flowers on Ricky’s grave today, I couldn’t help but laugh through the tears. Throughout our marriage, he was never really a flowers kind of guy. He was the thoughtful, romantic-card kind of man — the kind who could always find the words in the card that said exactly what his heart felt. Flowers just weren’t his thing… unless I reminded him. 💐
So no, I didn’t make a big, elaborate floral arrangement — because that just isn't him. Simple florals for my simple man. And as I stood there, I smiled and said, “I know you love your flowers, honey.”
I laughed, I cried, and I spoke out loud to him like I always do: “I’ll bring you your flowers, sweetheart — even though you didn’t ask me to… forever, until we’re together again.”
It’s in these small, ordinary acts that I feel closest to him. Changing flowers, sharing a memory, smiling through tears. Love doesn’t end — it simply takes on a different form. And for now, this is one of the ways I carry him with me as I continue walking this path, one day at a time. ❤️🕊️
Next year, I hope to have our tombstone in place and a special vase to put our flowers in — just like Daddy’s. (my sister does a fabulous job) 🫶🏻
