I'm James Maxey, the author of numerous novels of fantasy and science fiction. I use this site to discuss a wide range of topics, with a heavy emphasis on cranky, uninformed rants about politics and religion and other topics that polite people attempt to avoid. For anyone just wanting to read about my books, I maintain a second blog, The Prophet and the Dragon, where I keep the focus solely on my fiction. I also have a webpage where both blogs stream, with more information about all my books, at jamesmaxey.net.


Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Laura and the flowers

Last night I bought flowers. Today I'll drive out to the grave and leave them, in memory of the second anniversary of Laura's passing.

I bought tulips. They're red, but the edges of the blossom are wrinkled a bit and streaked with orange and yellow. None of the petals are perfect. Some are drooping out a bit too far, others are curled up a bit too tightly, as if they are shying away from thier breathren. One of the flowers has edges that have formed little spikey outgrowths. In size and shape, these spikey bits resemble a cat's claw, but yellow, with a red core. This one flower hasn't fully bloomed... it's still bound up tightly, more secretive than its vase-mates.

Laura wasn't perfect. She was assymetrical, wrinkled, and scarred. Life had left her with creases and dents, and more than a few spikey edges.

And I, I loved every square inch of her, from the tip of her sometimes bald head down to the bottoms of her toes. She was like a complex book that rewards your continued study, always revealing some new subtlety, some new hidden story. I cherished reading between her lines.

You'll know its love when the wrinkles become the reason. You'll know it's love when you trace the scars with your fingertips and remember the stories. You'll know it's love when you serenely fall into the flaws, and all the bumps and scuffs and ragged edges are more beautiful than a field of flowers.

1 comment:

Bellily said...

I brought some flowers for Laura after you left. It was nice to see your tulips.

In some ways, this anniversary is harder than the last for me. How do you fare?

I looked for some glow-in-the-dark glitter I remembered having to sprinkle in the grave marker's letters, to let her name sparkle and shine throughout the night, but I couldn't find my glitter. Maybe the thought will count for something.

I love the pictures you posted. They moved me and made me smile for all that Laura was and is in our lives. That chin is as cute as any chin could ever be.

Thanks for posting your words. I read what you have to say with off-and-on regularity, always glad and enriched by your posts.

This last year has produced a bajillion scenarios where I wished I could have talked it out with her. I trust that she's still sending energy and prayers my/our way from where she's at. She's a balm and always has been.

Much love to you, James.