Everyday I brought my mom a flower. Everyday. It was the only thing that seemed to make her smile and if this is what it took to make her day even a little better, I was willing to do it. Why was she so sad? Well I don’t really know exactly. You see, her and my dad went out one night to dinner and when she came back she didn’t say a word and I haven’t heard from my father since. I didn’t ask any questions though because I knew from that point on that my mom was always one word away from bawling. She rarely speaks and. Last time she said anything was just to ask for a glass of water. Sometimes she sits at the window when it rains and just watches the raindrops fall to the ground like the tears that she refuses to let fall down her face.

The meadow is a great place. I love to go and just lay down before I pick the flowers for my mom. The tall dry grass gets crushed in patches ad I leap around and sing my moms favorite song, One Million Raindrops. I came here day and night, whenever my mom needed some cheering up.

I never thought about what would happen in the winter. When the leaves started to fall, I knew there would be a problem. As it got colder and colder, the plants started dying out and the great meadow that I knew with all the colorful scenery was nothing more than bare trees and dead grass. However, this wasn't the problem. I hadn’t got my mom flowers in about a week and I could see the regression. I tried to call for help but no one took my seriously when I told them my mom was sad because she didn’t get a flower. Weeks went by before I decided that the least I could do was make her flowers by hand. I grabbed some paper and glue and
started to recreate the acacias that I picked for her. I went the next morning to surprise her with a flower and was excited to see that small smile once more. But the strangest thing happened that day; she wasn’t in her bed. I looked all over the house, in the closets, in the backyard, and in the bathroom but all I found was an open window. At the time I had no idea what was going on but I raised myself long enough to figure out how to carry on with life. Some people might call her selfish for leaving me but if she is happier now then I should be happy, right? I’m not going to lie though it was hard. Everyday though the winter I made her a flower and placed it on her bed along with a tear that somehow always fell down my face no matter how hard I tried to keep it in.

For all the years to come, I brought my mother a flower. Everyday. Whether it was real or fake, there was never a single day that I didn’t get her one because of all the people I knew, I knew that wherever she was, she still wasn’t happy and if this was all I could do then so be it. The best thing about living in the middle of nowhere is that no one comes to find you. No one knows that your even there and to be honest and the ghost like essence that I call life doesn’t seem so bad when you are happy with yourself.  And I was.

In the meadow one day I found a dandelion and the child inside me told me to make a wish. I wished that wherever my mom was, that she would be happy with who she is. I blew of the petals of the dandelion and watched them float away. I closed my eyes and fell into the tall dry grass as the green trees slowly faded out of my vision. Everyday I look down on the meadow and I observe the little girl who skips through the tall grass and sings her favorite song, Black Bird, and everyday I see her living her life just as I did. Everyday.