[ FF ] `` I 'll tell you something the world does n't know ''

I sit in the old rocking chair in my garden listening to the bluebird ’ s song. I hear heavy footsteps nearby and the jingling of a watering can. Charlie must be watering the roses. He knows how much it means to be able to sit amongst the flowers and smell their scents. Charlie says he doesn ’ t mind maintaining the garden especially because it makes me so happy. He describes to me what every flower looks like in great detail from the color to the texture of the pedals. He tells me that sight is the least important of the senses and that without it I ’ ve become so much more intelligent. Although I can ’ t pick the vegetables right out of the garden anymore and cook them in our kitchen, Charlie continues to plant them and asks our housekeeper Rosalynn to prepare my favorite dishes. 
 
 I feel the heat of the sun on my face and adjust my sunglasses. I stretch my arms above my head and remember the long afternoons spent reading classic novels under the weeping willows in the front yard. It has been so long since I ’ ve held a hard cover book in my hands nonetheless read the words off the pages. I ’ ll tell you something the world doesn ’ t know: there is no better scent in the entire world than the smell of a book. Nowadays I would pay any amount of money for the tiniest bottle of book scented perfume. 
 
 I cough and my throat tickles with thirst. I hear the water can drop and hear footsteps race towards me. Suddenly a cold glass is pushed into my hands. Charlie says to drink and guides it to my mouth so I do. It is delicious freshly squeezed lemonade- He is so thoughtful. He asks me about my day and if I am too warm. I tell him that I am great. He tells me that Rosalynn is making squash ribbons with parmesan and crisp prosciutto. He sneaks me a small sample; no other place on Earth or even Heaven could produce fresher zucchini. Charlie tells me that he is almost done tending to the garden and will read me a story if I want. He ties my hair into a loose bun and rushes away. 
 
 Once Charlie is gone, I fix my hair into a tighter bun and drink another sip of lemonade. I hear Rosalynn ’ s knives chopping away in the kitchen; the window must be open. I focus and try to sense where she is in the kitchen and hear the clinging of the knives being laid on the counter. There are footsteps in the kitchen and then they get more distant. I turn my attention back to Charlie ’ s direction; he is cutting away the weeds on the side of the house. I take a breath and inhale fresh oxygen. I ’ ll tell you something else that the world does n't know; there are some days that we are alive that are more magical and more perfect than any Heaven could ever be. 

