Her name was Poppy.
She was his Flower as he called her.
She came to him when he most needed support.
She had the most beautiful smile. She would light the room up.
The day they married was the best day of his life. Her white dress hugged her in all the right places. She had left her hair out just as he liked it. She was old fashioned and therefore had something old, something new, something blue and something borrowed. He had not been able to see her until she appeared at the end of the isle.
Nine months later she gave birth to the most gorgeous baby girl. They named her Whynter because she was born in winter and she had the rosiest cheeks and pale lips just like her mother had after a winter walk.
Her first words were dada. He was so proud his wife couldn't wipe the smile of his face for months.
They said a 21st birthday was one to remember. They were right. They also said jealousy can kill.
The cool autumn breeze was floating around in the air. He had decided to spend his 21st with his family. It was his best birthday yet but that's not why he remembered it.
He woke that night to Poppy shaking him. She said there was someone outside.
He told her to grab Whynter and bring her into the study. He crept down the stair and out onto the porch only to be met by a piece of wood knocking him to the ground. He couldn't move but he did see the figure move into the house and hear the deafning cries of his wife.
He had never felt more helpless.
By the time he could stand up the man was gone all that remained was the lifeless bodies of his wife and child. He held them and cried.
He was told it was his wife's ex boyfriend. It was true. Jealousy can kill.
After the funeral he placed two flowers and a note on their graves. One rose, white as snow for his little Whynter and a poppy for his flower his light.
My flower my light my Poppy
I love you always
And my Whynter, my breathe of fresh air
You would have grown into a beautiful
Young lady like your mother.
My love always
Poppy Gibbs 1951-1972
Whynter Gibbs 1970-19172