The Smell of Flowers

Leaping out of our Tan 2002 Expedition, I turn to the big red brick building that i came to face. This building was at least ten times bigger then me. Looking up onto the roof, I see a black sign that has big words on it. Mommy is teaching me to read, but I am not advanced enough to read that! The building seems dead and vacant. It looks new, but yet old at the same time. As my mom picked up a dozen red roses in one hand, she used her free hand to grasp mine. Her hands are chilly, but soft none the less. The flowers smell great; I love the smell of roses! Daddy always buys me roses on Valentines Day and it makes me feel special.
Looking up at her, I see her long dark brown hair swaying in the wind. Her beautiful long eyelashes and rosy red cheeks are the same that they have been all my life. As I was turning away from her face I notice a drip of water draining out from her eyes, smearing her perfect makeup.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” I question.
Dropping my hand abruptly, she wiped her tears away.. “Nothing sweetheart, watch your step.”
Something’s wrong with her and I know it! Why is she crying? I don’t like when Mommy’s upset! Oh, what’s that smell! I love that smell! The smell of different flowers greeted me as I enter the room. I just can not get over this smell!. Looking up at my mom smiling, I realized she did not like flowers as much as I did, because they made her cry harder.

“Mommy, don’t you like the smell of roses?”
Interrupting me, my Uncle Brian yelled, “Hi Bumble Bee!” Knowing he was referring to me, I ran up to him and flew into his arms. He liked to call me bumble bee ever since I was little. He was so tall I had to jump just to get into his arms even when he was kneeling. In his arms, he smelt of peppermint and aftershave. I haven’t seen him for forever, well since about a week ago.
Letting go of him, he walked over to my mom and gave her a gentler hug than he gave me. “Did you tell her what happened?” He whispered so gently into my mother’s ear that I could barely hear it.
“No, I couldn’t find the right words” She responded ashamed.
Tell who what? What did she have to tell me? I didn’t get the teacher I wanted for 1st grade?
“We’re in room 3” He said, interrupting my thoughts.
We all walked together to the room in silence. My mom grabbed a piece of cardstock off the table too high for me to reach. What ever was on the card was unbearable for my mother, because she broke down in tears, her eyes beginning to puff out. Uncle Brian grabbed my mom’s hand, and then grasped my hand. As we were walking I caught a quick glance of what was on the sheet. I could not read it, but I saw a picture of my Papa on it.
Why would she cry about that? It’s just Papa? My thoughts were interrupted by a stronger smell of roses and daisy’s then there was in the hallway. I love flowers they smell so lovely. Glancing around the room there were flowers aligned everywhere, and many familiar and unfamiliar faces. I could see Papa’s golfing friends, and all my aunts and uncles. There was a really tall man in corner that I did not recognize, because if I did see him, I would have remembered his height! He looked almost 100 feet tall!
We strolled up to a group of people, and I immediately recognized my Dad, my Aunt Sheri, and my cousin Angie. Aunt Sheri’s eyes were just as puffy as my moms were. She waved to me trying to put on a brave face.
“Hi Annabelle!” My cousin said to me. She came up to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the group. “How’re you?”
Ignoring her question I looked around the room, everyone was crying! Why was everyone crying? They should be happy, the flowers smelt so good! Around the room I could see tissue boxes after tissue boxes, what is all of this?
“Why is everyone crying Ang?”
“Were at a funeral Annabelle…” She said in a way that made me feel stupid for not knowing. A funeral? What the heck? I have no idea what that is! I’m not gonna say anything though; I don’t want her to make fun of me.
“Oh gotcha!” I say to her fake laughing a little.
She looks at me with a strange look, but then turns and walks away. She liked to walk away and leave me by myself.
Everyone was talking to someone, and I was just by myself. Glancing around the room again, I notice how everyone is dressed elegant, like we are going to church. Black dresses, and black suits. It seems like the only color in the room is the beautiful flowers that covers the entire place. Looking down at myself, I see how I’m in my black dress with my white tights, and my ballet flats. Feeling my soft brown hair I can tell my hair is in pig tails. Oh okay, maybe it’s just a church ceremony. Yes, that is what a funeral is, sounds good to me.
Looking back up I see a bunch of flowers of all different colors surrounded by a big brown box. There were red, blue, violet, even yellow flowers! Although, the box was just plain brown, It was big, big enough to hold my Uncle Brian! And that is big! It was still as a statue, not moving an inch for anything. Noticing that the box was open, I walk over to it pushing through the groups of people. The smell of flowers was stronger than ever. I love smelling them so much. I jumped up onto the step in front of the box to get a better peek inside of it.
Inside, I found my Papa. His long eyelashes were clamped shut, and his lips looked sealed. The few gray hairs that he had on his head were all combed down to perfection. He was wearing his favorite Sunday church suit. It was a black suit with a white undershirt, and a blue stripped tie. He looked cold, frozen actually. He was wearing his wedding band and his hands were aligned perfectly across his belly button. He looked peaceful, but yet not lively. I couldn’t smell his usual Jovan for Men cologne, because the smell of flowers was too strong. Why’s he in there? Can’t he get out? “Papa wake up!!” He did not move an inch. I couldn’t even hear his normal deep breathing that I heard every time he slept.
I leaped off the step and ran to my mom, “Papa isn’t waking up mom!”
Something about my question caused all the chatter in the room to stop.
“Annabelle, your Papa passed away. He is no longer with us; he is in heaven with Nana.” My mom said to me. She gave me a hug, pulling me in, tighter and tighter. Gone? I didn’t even say bye to him. He didn’t wait for me to say bye!
“I’m sorry sweetheart; I couldn’t find the right words to be able to tell you earlier.”
Suddenly, feeling sick to my stomach, I glanced back at the casket. All of the beautiful flowers that surround my Papa suddenly don’t look so beautiful now. They look like their dying, like their suffering, like there colorless. And the smell of them doesn’t smell phenomenal now, it just smells plain. The smell of flowers does not please me anymore.