Literary Lion Writing Prompt: Flower

So, this isn’t this week’s writing prompt but last week’s. I have had a hectic run of doctor appointments between myself and my two younger children… and lots of things I’ve been crying over.

I give you my belated pieced for ISmithWords’ 400 word or less writing prompt: flower.


Dandelion Diadem

The room was sparse but for some handpicked flowers from her garden and the Chihuahua’s amenities. There was a crocheted blanket pulled up around her shoulders.

A quick rap at the door startled her out of her limbo like reverie about how life had mistreated her. A slight woman entered the room, too thin for her height, limp curls hung like dirty drapes around eyes encircled with the darkness of sleepless nights and worried days.

“Morning, Mother,” she said, like she had every day since this has started. Her voice had gotten quieter as things had deteriorated. “How are you feeling?” She asked, looking around the room. A disapproving snort from the bed had tears shimmering in the visitor’s eyes.

“Are my roses blooming?”

The question was impatient and and whistled off at the end, overtaken by wheezing.

“They should be blooming. You should have brought me some fresh flowers… Did you fertilize them like you were supposed to? You have to feed them every few months or they won’t bloom as nice… I bet you didn’t, or you didn’t do it right. If you had then you would have brought me… flowers…” She wheezed off a huff of indignation, looking to the window for flowers outside.

“I’m sure they’ll be blooming soon, Mother.” The daughter replied softly. She fidgeted in her lap, eyes examining the blanket. “I think I skipped a stitch on the hem on the end her. I’ll have to unravel it a bit to fix it, but I could bring my hooks tomorrow and fix it.”

“The blanket’s fine if not a little lopsided. Don’t put yourself out on my account. Not like I’m going to be tossing it around my shoulders and running around naked outside.”


“Is your mother so boring that you can’t just sit with me for awhile? It’s not like you have much longer to wait. You were always impatient. Ungrateful.”

The daughter squeezed her eyes shut, wiping at the tears that escaped.

“I made you something.” The hurt visitor said, opening a small box and placing it on the bed. “It’s a dandelion crown, like you made me that one time.”

She grunted with a glance in the box.

“It was a good memory.” Her daughter whispered as she let herself out.

Words: 384


Making Amends with Myself

I’ve been dealing with a barrage of recents scans and tests, nothing new there. What is new is with my mom. She’s got skin cancer again. this isn’t the kind the replace your face with skin from you rear end kind, this is the “it’s grown into a bunch of vital systems” kind.

While I do not consider my mother the most stable person in the world and would not leave her alone with my kids for all the money in the world, but she is still my mom and she is most likely looking at a pretty awful downward spiral. We should know more next week and I’m trying not to think about it too much, but I’ve still cried a good amount the last two nights.

There’s a lot of unresolved stuff between my mother and I, a lot of stuff that will never be resolved because she has straight up changed how events went down in her head and refuses to be honest about… a lot.

I’ve been working a long time with trying to give myself closure in places I know it won’t be co-created, like with my mother. It continues to be an ongoing process, a horrendously frustrating and depressing process.

There’s a lot I battle with inside my head on a daily basis. My neurologist keeps asking over and over again if I’m depressed. No, I am not depressed. Yes, it is something I struggle against. I don’t see them as the same thing. I’ve been depressed, I’ve been to that point where I’m broken and can’t string a sentence together and I am far, far from that. I’m not going to give some cop out, easy answer so she can give me what will be one more pill in my arsenal of encapsulated medications.

My mother has been on and off medications for depression just about as long as I’ve known her, I don’t want to be that, I don’t want to be crazy and unpredictable and scary like she was. I’m going to be myself, fight for myself.

My mother’s scenario has me at an encompass; she has alienated all of her children except for the 16 yr old still living with her who should not have to be her caretaker. Part of me thinks I should go up and help take care of her and part of me knows that would be a really bad personality situation.

It’s like everything with my mother is a lose-lose situation.