DAFFODILS

 "Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?”

The death of love is more dreadful than the death of a person. When a person dies, there is a death anniversary. We bring flowers to the graves. When love dies, you don't even look back at the living soul.

Yet humans are strange animals. The one who must leave the verandah now, the one who must leave the house for a different address - plants thousands of daffodils on a misty fall morning in her garden. She will never see those Daffodils bloom after the ice melts.

Daffodils are also strange flowers. They are poisonous. But every year they spread - they naturalize more than the previous year. And at some point, they capture the whole field - not for the person who planted these daffodils, but for the passerby: after all those snowy nights, to dazzle the eyes of those who walk that path.