Fields of Love | Teen Ink

Fields of Love

April 18, 2019
By mm39576 BRONZE, West Des Moines, Iowa
mm39576 BRONZE, West Des Moines, Iowa
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Dear Dave,


A field of flowers wave in the breeze. The summer night beginning as dusk approaches. Its sky unfolds in orange and red. You and I stand in the field. We admire its allure while skipping through the fields, giggling. Your palms are sweating and I think it's because this is the first date, not because of the humid weather. Spinning and dancing, we just started our journey in falling madly in love.


Marriage soon becomes a must for the two of us. Petals are tossed left and right while both our family members stand. I glide down the aisle smiling at each row of people. Bells ring and we embrace each other hand in hand. Our friends sit on the edges of their chairs. “I do”, we both say before kissing tenderly. Your kisses were always as sweet as the reddest roses.


Years later and I’m in a hospital bed, right after giving birth to our first child. Covered in sweat and wincing in pain I have the biggest smile on my face. The doctor walks in and hands the baby to me and I have the chance to admire our beautiful new addition to the family. You come to sit in a chair right beside me and lean in closer to lay your head on my shoulder. We both begin to cry, giggling while the little girl's eyes open for the first time, blooming like a flower I couldn’t quite remember the name of. “Her eyes look like Dahlias”, you claim and that was when I knew.


“Dave, hun, you are a genius”, I exclaimed. The look on your face was priceless and utterly confused. “Let’s call her, Dalia”.


“It’s perfect. Hi Dalia”, you said through thick tears, pressing your head even closer to me and wiggling the toes of our daughter whom you just named.


Many more years pass as Daliah helps us grow closer together. We are at home with our three children and decide to start a movie. Lily, our second youngest daughter, flips the light switch off before getting comfortable. I bring in popcorn and my sweet family begins eating voraciously. The chocolate melts on their fingers as they quickly grab the mini pieces and pass the bowl along.


Sitting close on the love seat with our children laying on the floor by our feet. You slowly grab my hand and gaze into my eyes, smiling. It was this moment that it really hit me how far we had came from that night in the flower fields. Laying my head on your shoulder and inching closer just as the movie ends, I am content. We both kiss our children goodnight before picking up our mess of popcorn and blankets scattered on the floor like pollen on flowers. You grab the remote and turn the tv off before kissing my forehead, embracing me, and heading up to bed.


After walking up the stairs, stopping to joke and kiss, we lay down in our king-size bed together. You wrap your arms comfortingly around me as we curl into each other and fall peacefully into slumber, holding each other so tightly we barely taking up any space on the bed, leaving a large majority blank and untouched and only one imprint between the two of us.  


Fast forward to another 38 years later and you and I are lying in the same position again, packed in the bed like seeds in a small bag. However, there is one major difference. The bed is only a twin size, the room full of white walls, the smell of strong hand sanitizer, and the sounds of beeps. A hospital bed in a hospital room. You, my sweet Dave, can barely sit up enough to kiss me. Your hands are too wrinkled and weak to squeeze me and your eyes keep falling shut from exhaustion.


My body turns over carefully to face you. I caress your face gingerly as you sleep. A tear trickles down my cheek as I smile gratefully. I know my days left with you are very numbered, however, I am so grateful for the years given to me and I am going to appreciate every moment left. This moment specifically, serene and as sweet as nectar.


I look over and see the flatline on the machine. Commotion begins as nurses run in and out shouting jargon even my old hearing aids don’t allow me to understand. It seems like the volume on the television is increasing 30 notches each minute. Nurses check your vitals and try shocking him back to consciousness while I cautiously move out of their way, never once taking my eyes off of you. The beeps grow louder and the room continues to overflow with nurses.


My face is now soaked with grief while standing in absolute horror. My footing is lost and I fall to the ground like a wilting flower as I watch the love of my life pass over. All the memories flood my head and I pictures those fields we once danced in so long ago.  


I daydream about the flowers blowing in the wind. Yet, in this vision, the dalias dance on their own, with no people around. They look peaceful as the sun is beginning to set, filling the sky with color the same way it did that night. The flowers are more dainty than I remember. Wilted and malnourished as if they have not seen the sun for a long while.


The daydream comes to an end as I drag my feet past your hospital room one last time. Now even more white and empty than before, fresh linens have been placed on the bed and there is no longer an indent where we had been lying. The room has been cleared out and made available for the next set of lovers to lose each other. You have passed and I can not bear the sight any longer as I rush to the car, envisioning a close up of a small seedling of a flower.


It pops through the soil and begins growing baby leaves. Soon, it blossoms and grows much taller. Its petals break free from their constraints. Now free and no longer sick, weak, or hurting. “Are you okay?”, asks Dalia, snapping me out of my imagination on the ride home.


“I just miss him, hun, I’m fine.”, I speak softly.


Returning home to our king-sized bed. The space that was once filled by you is now as empty as the rest of the bed: blank and untouched. I crawl under the blanket and smell the faint remnants of cologne. The single indent now feels too large as I stare at the walls, with no one's arms to comfort me tonight. The floral wallpaper doesn’t make me smile the way it did the weekend we placed it all around the room. You never liked it but promised it made you happy as long as it meant I was happy as well. Now I wish I had let you choose.

The sun begins to rise and fill the room with light. The clouds move slowly through the sky like dandelion seeds in the wind. Pretty soon 8:00 pm hits and I have still had not awoken. I see myself lying flat on my back. My lips are cold, my fingers stiff. The sun escapes the room as dusk falls.


The final image I dream about before the light disappears completely is yet another flower beginning to grow right next to Dave’s. Its petals just a little smaller, but large enough to graze across the other flowers petals. Almost like they are holding hand, A breeze rolls over and the flowers dance in the wind together. The same way we did as kids and lovers in our past life.


The wind picks up and our petals begin to fly into the wind together, free and at peace. Nothing holding them back, not even fragile bones or broken hearts. As the final two petals fly into the sky and the sun begins to set, our spirits dance in the field one last time, remembering where it all started and promising to remember each other in whatever afterlife awaits them. If only I could be there today, this is what I would want you to hear.

 

Your Dearest,

               Hazel


The author's comments:

I based this story loosely on my great grandparents and their love story. They were highschool sweethearts and both passed within the last few years. 


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