me up and carry me to our car. I don’t feel my mom wrap a blanket around me and kiss my forehead. I just feel peace.
It’s raining. I can feel the wind blowing through my open window and raindrops hitting the outside ground. I run downstairs, searching for anybody. The first person I find is my daddy. He’s starring at his laptop, typing up something for his business.
“Daddy!” I yell, throwing my arms around him.
“What’s the matter, baby?” His eyebrows twist upwards in concern.
“The rain is going to ruin my flowers!” All third graders have to do a project or school. They grow something in a pot, and at the end of the month, you can take it home and continue to grow it. Of course I had chosen roses. They we’re the prettiest, even with they’re sticky thorns.
When I had brought them home earlier that day, my mom had placed them on the walk leading towards our front door. “So they can get beautiful sunshine to make them grow, and everyone walking by can admire how beautiful they are.” She had said.
But now the yucky rain was going to ruin them. I had to tell daddy so he can make the rain stop!
My dad smiled and led me to the front walkway. It was pouring by-now. I held on to his leg.
“The rain won’t hurt them,” he said, gesturing towards my beautiful roses getting pounded by fierce rain.
“Yes huh, Daddy! I know they will! We have to protect them!” I run fearlessly towards the floors, lifting my shirt to cover them.
My dad runs out behind me, chuckling.
“Let me explain it to you, Saigey,” he says, “If beautiful things like flowers always got beautiful things like sunshine to make them feel beautiful things, then they wouldn’t truly appreciate how beautiful life is.”
“Huh?” I say, not understanding.
My dad bends down and continues, “The rain makes flowers appreciate the sunshine. Rain makes the flowers need sunshine. Think about it, if flowers got sunshine all the time, then they wouldn’t need it. And if sunshine was the only thing flowers ever got, then they wouldn’t like it very much, would they?”
This was true. My mom had given me Mac N’ Cheese for a whole month because it was my favorite food and the only thing I would eat. But after having it for a couple days, it wasn’t the good anymore. I even wanted to eat her yucky lima beans.
“Oh! I get it. The rain makes them sad so they can be happy!”
”Yup. If you never experienced unbeautiful things sometimes, then you’d never really know what beautiful was, would you?”
“Nope,” I say, heading back into the house. “And roses are so beautiful, Daddy. One day I’m going to love a boy who calls me beautiful and who loves Roses just as much as me!”
“And he’ll love you just as much back,” replies my dad, shutting the door to keep out the rain.
I open my eyes, smiling to myself. The thought of finding someone who loves you will put a smile on anyone’s face. I roll over on my side and glance at the clock. 2:30pm. I had slept all night and all day again. I shut my eyes, wanting to lose myself in old memories that become good dreams.
It’s been 10 days since Bruno’s death. I’ve spent each one sleeping. I couldn’t bare to face the world that Bruno was no longer in. Sleep was my only escape. When you sleep, you don’t hurt. I guess that’s why it’s the cousin of death.
Bruno’s last moments had been so peaceful. I’m sad I didn’t tell Bruno how much he means to me. I could have told him every time he smiled at me, or took my hand, or kissed my lips, or anything. I could have said it, emailed it, texted it, messaged it to him on Facebook, just as long as I told him. But luckily Bruno and I had the best kind of love- the love that just knew. The last words I ever said to Bruno were “I love you”, and even though he didn’t get to say it back, it was my turn to just know.
I heard of people being upset that they never got to tell someone close to them who died
It’s raining. I can feel the wind blowing through my open window and raindrops hitting the outside ground. I run downstairs, searching for anybody. The first person I find is my daddy. He’s starring at his laptop, typing up something for his business.
“Daddy!” I yell, throwing my arms around him.
“What’s the matter, baby?” His eyebrows twist upwards in concern.
“The rain is going to ruin my flowers!” All third graders have to do a project or school. They grow something in a pot, and at the end of the month, you can take it home and continue to grow it. Of course I had chosen roses. They we’re the prettiest, even with they’re sticky thorns.
When I had brought them home earlier that day, my mom had placed them on the walk leading towards our front door. “So they can get beautiful sunshine to make them grow, and everyone walking by can admire how beautiful they are.” She had said.
But now the yucky rain was going to ruin them. I had to tell daddy so he can make the rain stop!
My dad smiled and led me to the front walkway. It was pouring by-now. I held on to his leg.
“The rain won’t hurt them,” he said, gesturing towards my beautiful roses getting pounded by fierce rain.
“Yes huh, Daddy! I know they will! We have to protect them!” I run fearlessly towards the floors, lifting my shirt to cover them.
My dad runs out behind me, chuckling.
“Let me explain it to you, Saigey,” he says, “If beautiful things like flowers always got beautiful things like sunshine to make them feel beautiful things, then they wouldn’t truly appreciate how beautiful life is.”
“Huh?” I say, not understanding.
My dad bends down and continues, “The rain makes flowers appreciate the sunshine. Rain makes the flowers need sunshine. Think about it, if flowers got sunshine all the time, then they wouldn’t need it. And if sunshine was the only thing flowers ever got, then they wouldn’t like it very much, would they?”
This was true. My mom had given me Mac N’ Cheese for a whole month because it was my favorite food and the only thing I would eat. But after having it for a couple days, it wasn’t the good anymore. I even wanted to eat her yucky lima beans.
“Oh! I get it. The rain makes them sad so they can be happy!”
”Yup. If you never experienced unbeautiful things sometimes, then you’d never really know what beautiful was, would you?”
“Nope,” I say, heading back into the house. “And roses are so beautiful, Daddy. One day I’m going to love a boy who calls me beautiful and who loves Roses just as much as me!”
“And he’ll love you just as much back,” replies my dad, shutting the door to keep out the rain.
I open my eyes, smiling to myself. The thought of finding someone who loves you will put a smile on anyone’s face. I roll over on my side and glance at the clock. 2:30pm. I had slept all night and all day again. I shut my eyes, wanting to lose myself in old memories that become good dreams.
It’s been 10 days since Bruno’s death. I’ve spent each one sleeping. I couldn’t bare to face the world that Bruno was no longer in. Sleep was my only escape. When you sleep, you don’t hurt. I guess that’s why it’s the cousin of death.
Bruno’s last moments had been so peaceful. I’m sad I didn’t tell Bruno how much he means to me. I could have told him every time he smiled at me, or took my hand, or kissed my lips, or anything. I could have said it, emailed it, texted it, messaged it to him on Facebook, just as long as I told him. But luckily Bruno and I had the best kind of love- the love that just knew. The last words I ever said to Bruno were “I love you”, and even though he didn’t get to say it back, it was my turn to just know.
I heard of people being upset that they never got to tell someone close to them who died
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