She dragged me out to a picnic that day. I was complaining because I don't like going out that often and the sun was too hot and I wasn't dressed for the occasion. I was in a spring dress that was too big for me, ties around my waist were a random piece of rope in my room. Why I had it, I still to this day have no idea. She just laughed at me and stuffed me into her car with a basket and a blanket. The blanket was coarse, not like a soft throw blanket. She continued to drive. It was at least an hour, then we stopped for gas, then another hour. The car was warm, and no matter what air conditioning or fresh air, we were still sweaty. I can still feel the balls rolling down my shoulders and back, disgusting and salty.

"You'll love it when we get there." She said, smiling.

"I doubt it."

She just laughed at me again. I fell asleep in the overly warm car, but it wasn't a real nap; it was the half-awake feeling where you can still hear her favorite music playing lightly, wind making my hair go everywhere , you can still feel the car jolting and stopping and going faster. I still think it was the best sleep I had.

"My love, it's time to get up," She shook me gently, a forehead kiss pressed against me. I groaned but got up. We carried the basket and blanket only a little ways, my eyes were still tired and I couldn't see too far as to where we were going.

"We're here."

I look up.

I got hit in the face with sunlight. The warm rays felt soft on my face and I had to blink several times before looking around us.

Yellow.

My favorite color.

The whole field was covered in yellow, the small flowers waving around in the breeze. It was vibrant yellow, a yellow everyone associates with happy. A perfect yellow. I was speechless.

She set up the blanket and food, martinelli's apple cider and chocolate cake, turkey sandwiches and barbeque potato chips. I sat down next to her. I don't know how long we sat there, I knew we stayed till the sun had set and the grasshoppers had come out. We packed up and headed for home, but I drove instead, and she slept in the car with the blanket around her, her sleeping face so devoid of any worries.

I woke up this morning without her next to me. I couldn't smell coffee, which she usually gets first thing in the morning. I didn't hear the shower running. It was silent. I got up and walked to the kitchen. No one sitting and reading or on their phone.

No one.

Because she is gone.

My yellow flower.