Flowers
The daisies from their first Jolly Holiday, the sunflower from her return to London, the freesia from the marketplace. Simple, yet they were as important as the rose he gave her on their first date, the lily on their anniversary, and the tulip on a Sunday, just to say he was thinking of her.
On her way to France, she took the chalk-dusted gerberas with her, clasped tightly in her hand. She only released them once she was almost on the doorstep of her new family. A sweet pea with a note stating she was equally as sweet was sent in the form of a painting whilst she was in Greece, and for their wedding, there were orchids. An idea from their Holiday in Nepal.
"That's quite a bouquet ya hav' there," he commented one day. "Where'd ya get all them then?"
"Here and there."
Fifteen years was a long time for a flower to live. Yet, not one flower that Mary had received from Bert had been subject to its natural end. They were all in the vase on her windowsill.