Every day he gave me a flower.
Sometimes it was a bought arrangement.
Sometimes it was a wild flower.
Sometimes it was a picked flower.
Sometimes he gave me a dried poppy .
Neatly tukked into the pages of his favourite book.
Sometimes it was free.
Sometimes it was store-bought.
At times it was cheekishly taken from a public garden.
Or from behind the vile neighbours fence.
Sometimes it was drawn on paper.
Sometimes they were bound into a crown. .
Everyday he gave me a flower.
He gave them with love.
He gave them with passion.
Sometimes it was a dandilion.
Sometimes it was origami.
Sometimes it was a poem,
Or a book about a flower.
He gave me flower earrings.
A flower neclace.
He served me flowers floating in my tea.
He gave me flowers in the form of a bread.
Sometimes he cooked with edible flowers.
He gave me flowers every day.
He spread out flowers on our bed.
And now, it is I who is bringing him flowers.
I come to his grave
And bring a flower, or two .
And one day soon, I will be here too.
His last flowers grow here now.
LinkedIn has the tendency to send me job opportunities. It can be quite annoying, especially as most jobs don’t correspond to my profile or interests. Being an underpaid “happiness officer” for a French dating-app never really appealed to me. Still, I never turned off the notifications, as one never knows if something interesting might come up.
This morning, when I checked my emails, my dear friend LinkedIn had once again sent me a list of jobs that might interest me. And to my surprise, there actually was a position that was ready to spend my day perfecting my profile and reformulating my CV for. It was the job I had dreamt of doing when I was a teen and that influenced my decisions regarding my studies and activities during and after high school. Working as a Political and Economic Reporter based in Paris, what could be more fitting for me? I studied Politics (with a year of Politics and Economics and two papers research about the Euro Zone) for exactly that job.
Observing my own reaction, I realized that this still is my holy grail of a job. Being a correspondent for a serious publication (The Wall Street Journal isn’t too bad, is it?). So, imagine my shock when I saw:
“This job is no longer accepting applications”.
So, why did I receive this job in the first place? I was asleep at the time the email was sent out, I am not desperate for a job (my business is quite successful thus I am rarely blogging) to the point of checking my email for LinkedIn job suggestions at 23:00…
Of course, accepting such a job would have implications for my family life (it’s all a question of organisation). I am about to be 30 and now is the best moment to start a real career, and the best would be to do so in a field and a specialisation that has been on the radar for 15+ years. I guess I should now find a way to get in touch anyways, if not I might have regrets in the future…