He had walked me through the valley of flowers. The never ending beauty that surrounds the far side of the earth. He had spoken to me once we reached the tree. The one with the reaching fingers of blossom. He started his sentence with the name he had called me when I first entered this wondrous garden of life. "Lavande," he said with a glisten in his eyes. 'Lavande, ne pas avoir triste ni peur. Je serai jamais vraiment allé." He spoke in the dialect we both knew quite well. One which nobody else in the hills could understand. When he left the earth, I had smiled as I remembered his words that day. "Lavender, don't be sad nor afraid. I will never really be gone."
I watch the blossoms unfold as the sun creeps over the lush green and yellow hills. Some things will never change. There will always be those memories, but they mustn’t be mulled over for too long. Daddy would never want me to do that. He blossomed a part of my heart just as the sweet blossom evolves out of a bud. Although he is no longer here, I feel he is closer to me then ever before. Il a ouvert mon coeur pour aimer. He opened my heart to love.