When I first stepped out into the sunshine, I couldn’t help but feel positively overwhelmed by it all—the warmth, the light, the scent of grass and the sound of birdsong; and most of all the memories it brought me. I saw myself in that spring landscape. It was as if I were watching a picture film of my life.
There, just atop that hill, I knelt as a child in my blue Easter dress and inspected the patch of daffodils before me. I would choose the best ones to bring home to my mother. I can still remember the way she smiled and swept me up into her arms when I returned home, careful not to crush the delicate blooms I was clutching in my small fist. Daffodils were her favorite flower.