garden of memories (3)

Yet, at this moment, Thomas felt close, almost within reach. Her heart was aching with the bittersweet comfort of recollection.

Next, she moved to the lavender bed, the purple spikes bending slightly under the gentle breeze. As she touched the lavender, her mind drifted back to a summer evening when she and Thomas had picnicked in the garden.

They lay on a blanket, surrounded by lavender, their laughter mingling with the hum of bees. "Rosemary, do you remember when we planted this lavender?" Thomas's voice echoed in her memory. She had smiled, nodding, her head resting softly on his shoulder.