“ Well , you know , Gus , I don ’ t like to put it that way . It makes it sound too sad . I like to say that he walked ‘ into the garden .’ Doesn ’ t that sound happier ?” She asked , glancing at me in the rearview mirror .
“ Why is it a garden ?” I asked .
“ Because gardens help me remember that sometimes , people can be like flowers . They are here for a little while , but might be gone sooner than we expect . Sort of like how seasons come and go .”
“ Grandpa really liked his garden . I think he would have liked to say it that way , too .” I replied , not even beginning to realize the metaphor of the words she had just spoken . “ I believe Grandpa liked those orange flowers . What are they called again ?”
“ Day lilies , sweetie . Those were his favorite . He said they always reminded him that something good was just around the corner .”
We had ridden in silence after that . My mom hadn ’ t liked for people to see her cry . She wasn ’ t bashful by any means , but she wanted people to think she was strong . I knew she was . I had watched it be displayed before me throughout my whole childhood . She always had a unique way of explaining everything , even things as difficult to explain as death .
She would have wanted you to know how much she appreciated you being here tonight . She always talked about how much the people of this little town truly loved each other , despite their differences . Whatever those differences may be , she loved everyone the same even if they didn ’ t necessarily love her in the same way . She was a gentle soul , who stood up for the people who couldn ’ t stand up for themselves .
When I was in the seventh grade , I started to get nose bleeds . They were usually so fast I couldn ’ t stop them without holding my nose until it just stopped . I was your average pre-puberty boy . My voice was just beginning to crack when I yelled or sang too high . One day , I got in a fight with a boy a school
16