I buy flowers every March
during the American Cancer Society’s
Daffodil Days.
I can’t look at daffodils
and not think of my grandpa,
my sweet Baba,
who lost his fight with cancer
nearly 19 years ago.
It’s hard to believe it’s been that long.
We all still miss him like crazy.

I am convinced he had a hand
in bringing me my boy,
that he likely knew my son
before I did.
So, I get choked up when,
my little guy voluntarily
checks on the daffodils
each morning
to see how they’ve grown,
to see how they smell,
to remind us to pay mind
to the flowers.

Hope springs eternal.