It’s the flower food packet that gets you.
That little plastic packet with the powder that keeps your flowers alive longer. The little packet you know you’ll never use because these flowers aren’t going in a vase. They’re going on the ground.
Buying flowers for my baby’s grave is a normal process for me. Every so often, and especially around the time of year we lost our boy, I grab a bunch at our local grocer. I lay them carefully on top of where his very tiny body was laid to rest. And after more than four years, I can often do it without crying. I say a quick prayer, and I move on with my day.
But this last time, cutting off the plastic covering from my little carnations, it was that packet that got my heart.
The packet that, to most people, indicates that these flowers will be put out to be seen and enjoyed by the recipient. The packet that makes the enjoyment last a little longer. The packet that indicates a short home for these flowers in water, instead of shriveling up, lying on the ground outside.
It’s the little things, the tiny triggers. The things, only you as his mother, will notice.
It’s the flower food packet.