The Buds which Never Flowered

"Sky-blue hyacinths. Over there, just beside those, bumble-bee yellow tulips! Oh and the ah, ah, ah-- choo!" he paused, taking time to blot his tender nose.

"Fresh cut grass?" replied Shona, passing her father a tissue.

Springtime was always Ralph's favourite season, but he could never quite enjoy it outside of the confines of his home. Hayfever had plagued him every Spring, without fail, since he was a boy.

So Shona had the duty of bringing Spring to Ralph.

Flowers were almost contraband in this household, so Shona's paper mache daffodils or pools of tadpoles in her mother's mason jars had to suffice. For it was the bright kaleidoscope of colours that made Spring tantalising to her father's ageing eyes.

In the South, it got unbearably hot, just too hot to truly enjoy the goodness of warmer weather; but Spring's cool and gentle tenderness aided Georgia folk's ability to take in the wash of colour which enveloped every fertile patch of land for miles.

"I remember the weather being just like this, ain't that right Hilda? Ah, just cool and calm, almost like you brought the Spring witcha' Shona." Ralph said, closing the bay-window.

Hilda softly kissed Shona's head, as she clutched onto old glossy photographs. Whilst Springtime was uplifting to most, for this family it served as a permanent reminder of what didn't blossom in this season.

There were memories of Easter egg hunts, indoors of course, and wreath making, all captured within the pictures which Shona held; each one their own signs of Spring. Continuing to weave her fingers between these memories, Shona's hand suddenly stopped.

April was here.

The room felt like a stifling Summer's day now; not a single puff of air to go around as if the closed bay-window had cut all air off. The colour palette no longer seemed so bright, now a dimmed pastel wash; contrasting with the sea of flowers outside.

"Oh how I wish she had blossomed," Shona said solemnly, stroking the face of a smiling, frozen cherub.

Two years ago, Shona and Elijah were here. Shona, Elijah and little April. But it wasn't to stay this way.

You see, unlike Spring, there were no signs. No clues signifying that times were changing, what was there one minute was gone the next it seemed. The loss of April was still fresh, a sudden re-introduction of Winter to haunt this family.

Visits to her parent's home were generally Shona's solace; the tranquil garden provided a still temple of peace. Beside the weather-beaten bench and tall white-hickory tree, lay a small Azalea bush. Elijah knew of Shona's fondness for the garden and planted the Azaleas in April's memory.

Hilda pruned, primed and watered the bush, but to no avail. For these were the buds which never flowered. Even Shona's gentle whispers and telling of tales couldn't awaken these sleeping beauties.

Ralph enjoyed gazing from afar, but couldn't help but wish this centrepiece in the yard would one day blossom. This living memory of April served as more than a sign of Spring; it encapsulated the essence of Spring itself.

His determination had led him to read for hours upon hours through pages of botanical journals, but nothing solved this mystery. Hilda too was in on the task at hand, even now sitting nonchalantly flicking through a gardening magazine.

In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere suffocating the room, Hilda started up a conversation.

"You'll never believe what I just read, Ralphie. The Azalea bush is about the only darned plant you could actually withstand, it's suitable for hay-fever sufferers!" Hilda exclaimed, pointing to the article.

The family chuckled to themselves, Ralph had avoided that bench like the plague for what now seemed like no reason. Of course, basking in the sun-trap would solicit more than a few sneezes but even sitting indoors with a gentle Spring breeze would cause that.

"I'd like to say that I knew that beforehand, but I guess that was just a lucky pick on my part!" joked Elijah, gazing out at the bush.

Shona remained silent, as though the air still seemed tainted.

"I'm gonna head out for some air, y'all know where to find me," Shona said, gesturing to her usual spot.

The remaining three lowered their heads as she trailed towards the bench. It wasn't always like this, not all visits were tinged with such sadness. It appeared to be sporadic, Shona's grief manifested itself in many ways; as expected.

Hilda nudged against Elijah's arm, motioning for the pair to join Shona out in the glorious sunshine. It seemed a pity to stay indoors.

For Ralph, however, the thought of the outdoors created a sense of unease. His ability to take in all that Mother Nature offered this side of the year, was limited. But something about the note which the conversation had ended upon, resonated within him.

What was a sneeze to this moment?

And with that, Ralph sprung up, slower than he'd hoped, and embarked on his journey into the great outdoors. Armed with his tissues, he ventured out into the primed greenery.

"Dad, you really don't have to come out here, I'm fine- honestly," Shona remarked, getting up from her seat.

"No, no. I'm ah-ah-ah-choo! Absolutely fine!" Ralph replied, smiling through the timely tears.

He joined his family on the bench, which seemed bigger than the squeeze he'd once remembered.

There was a palpable silence, as the breeze flew through the bush beside them. No words were necessary, for the family knew why they were here. The blanket of heat and stillness which surrounded them was comforting as if April was around.

"So it really won't set me off, Hilda? I mean, I ought to put this to the test, eh?" Ralph remarked, tentatively stepping near the Azaleas.

"Mark my words, that digest has never done me wrong. Go on, it ain't doing nothing to you yet," Hilda replied, observing Ralph's hesitation.

They looked on as Ralph stepped in closer towards the bush, giggling at his fear of something which sat so delicate.

But as Ralph did eventually reach out a hand and feel the offerings of this garden, he noticed something unusual.

"So what exactly was wrong with these Azaleas again? The plant not growin' or what?" he said, puzzled at his discovery.

"Not a damn sign of life on that thing, I don't know if I just picked up a bad plant or something. Sheesh, even Hilda couldn't get the damn thing growin'!" replied Elijah.

Ralph motioned for the three to come towards him, his other hand cradling something amongst the bush. Short, soft gasps emerged from their mouths as their eyes gazed upon a beautiful pink flower.

Taking a step back, Ralph swapped places with Shona, allowing her hand to shelter the newly blossomed Azalea.

"It's here, Spring is here. April is here!" Shona announced, a tone of disbelief emerging through her joy.

This was more than a flower, more than a sign of Spring. For the flower symbolic of gentleness and everlasting beauty was awake; April had finally blossomed.