Roses, tulips, daisies, lilies, and wildflowers swayed in the breeze. The woman explained that my grandfather had purchased the property years earlier and designed the garden as a gift for my grandmother. He visited often to plan each section, carefully choosing which flowers to plant and where.
He had wanted her to discover it only after he was gone, so she would know his love continued even in his absence.
My grandmother walked slowly among the blooms, touching the petals with trembling hands. Another letter awaited her, written shortly before my grandfather passed. He explained that each flower represented a Saturday morning, each blossom a reminder of his promises.
He hoped that whenever she missed him, she would visit the garden and feel his presence in every bloom. Tears filled her eyes as she smiled, understanding that his love had never left—it had simply taken root in a new way. Now, every week, we visit the garden together.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
