An Angel Tulip

From a book I once read called The Angel Book by Karen Goldman, I found a 

short, concise phrase I have always particularly liked.

“Angels are reminders of what we’re really here for.”

Because my dear kind Father so loved tulips, I see in them angels reminding me of why I am here. Their charming petals flow from the stem like lovely wings of many colors. They have a soft sheerness and an everlasting calmness that put me immediately at ease. They flop and play, as angels do in my mind, and they bring upon my often sad face a gentle smile of remembrance.

We always took tulips to my Dad when he was in his last days at the hospital. He would light up and for just a moment I would think he was well. They made him childlike as he would laugh and speak of them as friends.

I never knew why he so loved them. That has remained one of those questions I wish I had asked of him. Isn't it strange how something so important to me now was so unimportant then?

I know he is looking down upon our orange tulips on the dining room table. I look at them and they most certainly remind me why I am here; to attempt to set the same exemplary example he set for all of us. He was loving, kind, intelligent, funny, well read but most of all his love for his fellow man was bar none. 

I’m trying Dad, but you’re a tough act to follow!

I miss you, Poppy!