I'll Love You 'Til the Last Flower Dies

I remember back when my Grandmama was alive. She liked to talk about many things, but mostly guns and planes. She was a storyteller and I loved the ones she would tell me. The way she described them was fascinating. 

I recall one of the stories well. Grandmama said they had climbed a mountain as high as the atmosphere. Her words stuck with me. I loved how she spoke, the tales she'd tell. It made me feel as though I were a part of it all, but one thing she said in particular stuck with me.

"Kiss the stars for me, Cielo." She'd say with a smile.

"Grandmama, the stars wouldn't know." I'd say. She chuckled.

"Oh, they do. You kiss a flower, it knows." She'd turn away, her voice muffled from her mask.

"But Grandmama, why don't you kiss the stars . . ." I said back.

"Oh, Mein kleine Blüte, every night I kiss the stars." She said.

I pouted. "Grandmama . . ."

She'd stop me, taking the gas mask off to kiss my head. The scars along her face became visible. One across her nose, some on her lips. Many on her cheeks and chin. It was scary, but beautiful. That's what made her . . . her.

"Hush, Blüte. No more pouting. Go sleep." She said, putting her mask on before leaving.

I never understood Grandmama, but I knew she liked her garden. I remember that when she'd come home, she'd take my hand and we'd go to the pond. She said the lily-pads were the homes of fairies. It'd make me laugh.

In her garden, we'd sit for hours planting seeds in the ground. Sometimes, she'd lean down and kiss the hostas before she left. She said that even the smallest things need love, then she'd disappear.

One night in particular, Mother hadn't returned. Grandmama came in, rested her head on my sheets and cried. Grandmama never cried.

"Grandmama?" I asked. "What happened?"

She lifted her head and smiled. "Nothing, Blüte . . . go sleep."

I later learned that Mother would never come back, so Grandmama took me as her own. She'd take me out of my room and show me around. A lot of people would go past and salute.

I remember one time, I was following Grandmama when she suddenly stopped. A man stood before her. Grandmama froze and her expression hardened. The man stared down at Grandmama. I watched her and grabbed her hand.

"Lieutenant Black." The man said, his glare just as cold as Grandmama's . . . then his gaze softened. He put his hand on Grandmama's shoulder and she flinched. Her grip tightened. "It's not your fault."

Then he walked away. Confused, I looked up at Grandmama, but she was distracted. For a moment her eyes filled with emotions, but it was only for a second. The moment I noticed, she blinked it away.She crouched to my height, eyes on mine. She put her cold hand to my cheek, tilting her head. I'll never forget that look, or what she said.

"Cielo . . . I'll love you 'til that last flower dies." She whispered. Then she stood and we were off.

I never noticed it, but I realize that as time passed, Grandmama gained more and more scars. Although she never failed to smile at me. I regret that I took it for granted. The last I saw of her was the fight we had when she left.

"Grandmama." I had said, glancing up from the books at my feet.

"Yes, Blüte?" She said, her accent strong. Her focus remained on her work.

"Can you tell me what happened to Mother?" My voice softened. She noticed it too. She looked up.

"You don't want to know-" She started, but I cut her off.

"I do. Tell me." I stared at her. I regret it.

I watched her loving expression shift. The cold look she gave to those around us was the one she gave to me. Her eyes were sharp, and her hand gripped her pen.

"You don't need to know." She said. I was going to speak, I wanted to speak, but there was a knock on the door. She got up and left before I could say anything else.

Now, I sit in the garden. The one we had grown, the one we had taken care of. I don't know how many seasons have passed, but I know that Grandmama isn't here. I learned that her name was Carmon Black. I learned that this is a military base. She was a Lieutenant to a Marine Special Forces unit. I know her captain told me she's dead.

He told me that if it wasn't for her, I would've been sent elsewhere. I wasn't supposed to be here. I realize that I'll never see her again. The captain told me that she loved me and how rare that was. There were only a few who saw her face or got that look that she had given to me.

I had spent a few years contemplating my life. How I was rescued and taken in. Now that Carmon is actually gone, I walk in her garden. Her advice rushes through my head as I wander through what used to be gorgeous. Now it's all shrubs and branches, all shriveled up and coated in snow. I had made my way to the back to where I sat now. In front of me was a spider lily. Grandmama's favorite. It's droopy and its vibrant red is now drained. Snow lays under it and I feel that it's freezing . . . like her eyes were. The spider lily stands alone, yet her words ring in my ears. I realize now what she meant.

Now that she's gone, I remember it all. Tears ran down my cheeks. I wrap my arms around myself and cross my legs. I repeat what she told me, my gaze on the petals.

"I'll love you . . . 'til the last flower dies"