September 20, 2012

My dearest,

We are walking out of our apartment, passing the security guardhouse, when you stop. You bend over the shrubbery and smell the flowers.

“Spider lilies,” you say, “they are my favourite. They smell so good.”

I’ve passed these flowers daily and never noticed them before. They are white, delicate, slender, spidery (hence their name) but always just flowers to me. Now, through your eyes, they are beautiful and magical and a source of joy.

Will I start being more observant of my surroundings? Probably not. The world is more beautiful through your eyes, and that’s rather fine. May you always show me what I’m missing and what I’m not.

Yours, ever and always.