A Moment Ago

“Stop the car!” you said. So I pulled to the side of the road and braked, but before the car came to a complete stop you were off, running to the edge of the field. I picked up my camera and quickly followed but when I got to the edge it was too late. You were already lost, swallowed by a field of green. Then, I heard you shouting, “Isn’t it glorious?, Aren’t they beautiful?” You were five feet tall and the sunflowers dwarfed you, towering over you for what seemed like endless miles into the horizon. You were bobbing up and down, afloat in a sea of green, lost amidst a thousand blazing suns. It was like a joyful homecoming for you as your radiant smile joined their choir. I took your picture then and later we laughed when it came back and your little smiling face was surrounded by all the bright yellow flowers. Over the years there were many times we would lift the box down from the shelf in the closet and spend an afternoon rifling through our photos looking, as so many people do, for our proof of life. It always left us filled and satisfied. It’s winter now and the box is heavy. I keep it on the dining table close and sometimes I lift it to the coffee table in the living room to have a look. It takes me most of the week to do what we used to do in one afternoon. I must look like a silly child grinning ear to ear when I come to that photo. It’s my favorite. Your face is so radiant in that beautiful field. My eyes are old now and I can only see one flower. It shines so brightly all the other flowers disappear.