I wonder

This is truly a family farm. Before his parents passed away, the boss farmed with them his whole life. Then when we married (over twenty years ago) I joined the crew and the kids came on board as soon as they got big enough to see over a shovel.

Although it was a challenge to work together day in and day out and keep any semblance of serenity, I grew very close to his family, especially to his mom. I miss her every day, particularly buying her plants and flowers, and looking for special bits of china that I knew she would love when I visited garage sales. She was always so delighted with any gift, no matter how insignificant, that it was a real pleasure to come across something she would like. She worked hard at being a “good” mother-in-law. I am sure that I didn’t make that easy for her sometimes.

Today we went to the cemetery to “visit” the folks. I don't have the plants we put on their graves every year quite ready yet, but we were out and just felt like stopping. As we walked up to the graves from behind the stone I noticed that the earth had sunken a little and it looked kind of bare. The cemetery is located in very sandy soil that supports little in the way of grass. (Although the farm fields that come right up to the boundaries and even inside on the unused parts, have a thriving crop of rye, corn and oats this summer. It seems fitting for all the old farmers buried there to be surrounded by the chugging of tractor engines and the sighing of grass in the summer winds.)
I remarked to the boss that I should buy some Johnny Jump Up seed and plant the bare area, so there would always be flowers that wouldn't mind the mower and would come up every year in that special spot. Peg loved plants and it was a way I could have the joy of giving her some again. I knew it was a plan that I would carry out as soon as I could.

We stood and reflected for a minute, then turned toward the car, where the kids were waiting for us.

Suddenly cold chills raised a crop of goose bumps on my arms and stood the hairs up on the back of my neck.

There, right where I had been thinking of doing my seeding was one, single, perfect, dark purple Johnny Jump Up plant, its little cat face turned up to the sun.

There were no others anywhere around that whole section of the cemetery, just that one, on Peg’s side of the little square plot.

I am still shivering.