Lila had forgotten how big the sunflowers could get. Sure, she remembered standing in the family’s fields as a child and seeing them towering above her, waving in the breeze with faces as big as her own, but over the years she’d dismissed those memories.

Back then, the time spent in the sunflowers was happy. Today, the sight just made her sad. Her dad’s cancer had progressed to his lungs and the outlook was slim. Lila knew she should’ve visited more after moving to the city ten years ago, especially after the diagnosis. But the day she left, something had changed. Her father couldn’t understand her need to be among the buildings and noise and took it personally- no matter how many times she assured him he shouldn’t. The familiar feeling of guilt crept up when her brother Chip picked her up from the train station and made a “city slicker” comment, but there was no changing any of that now. She was finally here- might as well make the best of it. As if such a thing were even possible.

She wasn’t prepared for the scene at the house. No longer could Pop sit on the porch- the humidity was too much for his failing lungs. He was confined to the spare bedroom behind the kitchen where Lila and her friends used to play dress up and have sleepovers. The room seemed to vibrate with the sound of the respirator he now needed. She knew all of this before coming, of course. She did still call Chip, after all- gritting her teeth silently through the terse conversations- but seeing it was another thing entirely.

There were sunflowers in a jar by his table- wilting slightly; what a terrible metaphor under the circumstances. “You know how much I love them.” She turned, startled, to see him looking at her with a tender expression. It was then she knew she was forgiven.

When it was time to leave, she asked Chip to stop near the field. Carefully, gingerly, she stood on tiptoe and picked the biggest sunflower she could find.