Cherry/Blossom.

Any day now; Autumn. Just remember. She will come and attempt to claim the lives of all we know. Once tender leaves will fall from the trees as rust. And that rust will settle under my new shoes. It's the closest thing to closure.

In the month of February twenty-eight days will pass. Why only twenty-eight? Why take days from February and not December? I think back to my earlier years. I had a very special trait, though it was possessed by many children my age. That trait involved 'favourites'. Favourite colour and whatnot. And thinking back now brings a smile, not a force-applied frown.

My favourite colour has always been green. I feel a certain youthfulness in me now. Green has always been my favourite colour as it was the colour of leaves. I'm not sure if it was everyone who did this but as a child I would place a leaf under a piece of paper, pull out my apple-green pencil and lightly print it onto the paper - just like what you would do with a coin.

It was a truly magical.

It was like cheating on nature. I wouldn't fold this piece of paper. I would hold it delicately with two hands and walk home with it after school to show my Grandma.

"It looks just like a real leaf! Well done!" she would say.

We would be seated in the usual spot on the ground in front of sliding doors. It was her that showed me how to do this. Thinking back really hits me. It was simple really. Nothing too special. My box of toys. Her glass of water or tea. And we could talk all day. Or sit in silence happily.

I was young and didn't understand. I always took the two-coloured pills out of the metallic foil and place them into her trembling hands. She would take them and tell me what a good job I did patting me on my head.

I had no idea what they were for. I didn't think it was medicine or anything. With my experience at that age medicine was liquid, tasted bad and came in a brown bottle. The only thing that were different colours were sweets.

I just thought I was giving her sweets everyday. I didn't know they were pills.

I didn't know.

I don't know what happened next either. She wasn't there anymore. I was five. Why wasn't she where? She was gone.

I remember the cathedral. How everyone walked around where she lay motionless. I remember sitting in my Mum's lap. She turned me around and told me not to look.

Several years later I was clearing out a closet with my Mum. I must have been eight or nine. My Mum showed me X-RAY or ultrasound of what I looked like and she started crying. I didn't understand. Then I came across a piece of paper folded into thirds and a newspaper.

It was a death certificate. On it was the reason of death. And tears.

So we cried together.