A few weeks ago, my grandfather passed away. So, in his honor, I wrote this lyric essay about him. He was a great man and will be missed dearly. This is:
Dandelion
There’s a feeling of sadness when
you look at something and know it’s time has come and gone. I sat in my car
after a visit to the hospital to see my grandfather and cried. There is
something relaxing about crying, the way sadness and anger have an escape route
and contentment has an entrance, even if for a little bit.
As I
walked back to my apartment, I saw a dandelion tilted over. Its petals allowing
gravity to take over, pulling them toward the ground, where they would
eventually call home. The stigma was a darker color than usual. A bug landed on
it for a split second before it realized that the flower no longer had pollen.
When I
was a child, I was taught that when a flower died, it was right to throw it
away. Looking at the dandelion, I knew it wasn’t true. Dandelions live for a
couple of days before they disperse their seeds. For a flower, that’s almost a
lifetime.
Tears
rolling down my face, I watched the flower, knowing that, just like my
grandfather, time was moving in slow motion toward the finish line. For a
second, I cried for the flower. I cried for my grandfather. And then I knew.
Sadness was universal, whether it was over a dying dandelion or a dying family
member.
