Every so often I’d dream about being in an unfamiliar cemetery – like the cemetery invites me as a forgotten friend. There is one grave that I keep seeing each time and it always has such freshly cut lavender. The marriage of the lavender and the grave was so natural it was as if the grave birthed its own symbol of a fruitful and purposeful life lived.
But this one time was different. I could immediately tell from the gloom in the air and the bleak sky that something has changed. The gray stone was darker and the gathering dust has dulled its shine. The ubiquitous powder of neglect clung everywhere and did not spare the drying flowers of still lavender. The last of the flowers’ pigment stubbornly remained waiting for the anonymous visitor’s return holding on like a testament of its hope. A hope that this grave would not be left alone, that the grave’s final companion’s falling and unfailing kisses would not end as withered petals both worn and faded. Because the marble deserves something more than just the silent weeping of the wind; it needs the fulfillment of dreams and the telling of stories un-lived. But it will settle with the fresh shades of lavender and green.
And the days passed and I find myself back. The grave is bare of its memorable friends and instead a different sight greeted me. There was a new and identical grave beside it. Although they are both slowly and equally gathering layers of dust and are absent of any signs of visit, the air is light and the sky is clear. I knew that the words on the face of these pair will fade together inevitably and their story will sleep incognito shared only with the humblest of friends. But as soon a soft breeze kissed my cheeks, I smile at the faint hint of lavender.
Love like Life and Death is all around us. All you have to do is wear the right goggles to see. Try it.