Yellow tulips used to be my favorite

      I was in the grocery store the other day and I saw that they had put the tulips out. I looked at the yellows and purples and reds and I think I closed my eyes.

      Nine years ago, on Valentine's Day, I got a box from you. A big one. And inside were three dozen tulips, one of each color, carefully bundled and packaged. I had vases, of course, but nothing that could handle that kind of volume. I remember going to the store and buying a glass pitcher with a wide mouth and even then I had to sort of cram the last few in.

      They lasted for weeks, almost unnaturally long, sitting on my desk in front of the window. A constant source of pleasure. And not just the flowers themselves, nor even that they came from you. It was because you had known that I wanted them. And at that point in our lives, you liked to give me whatever I wanted. I have no idea why, but you did.

      Thank you. For the flowers and for giving me so many things that I wanted.