A Dandelion Love

"Love is like a dandelion." Granna Sloan said with a smile.

"A dandelion's a weed, Granna. Love isn't like a weed! It's... it's like a beautiful flower!" At fourteen, Kelly was dramatic about her view of love and romance.

"Nope, it's like a dandelion." Granna smiled as Kelly rolled her eyes. "Flowers can be fragile, easily uprooted and quick-fading. Dandelions only look fragile, but their roots are deep and stubborn."

"Love is stubborn?" Kelly frowned.

"Yep. Sometimes it has to be. When times are hard and things don't look so good, love has to have deep, stubborn roots to keep it from fading."

Then Granna ran a work-roughened hand over Kelly's bright blond locks. "We all have our tough times, Little Dandelion. You have to decide, when they come, is your love a pretty, rootless, fading flower or a deep rooted, stubborn dandelion?"


Kelly remembered that discussion with Granna Sloan and, when she married Robert, she had dandelions woven into her wedding bouquet. The florest thought she was nuts, but Granna Sloan had winked at her from the front row of the church. And when Granna passed away a year later, Kelly had insisted on a wreath made only of dandelions. No one else had understood, but Kelly was sure Granna was smiling.


Kelly sat in the hospital room, shock running through her deepest heart as the doctor told her and Robert that he would never walk again. A tumor had grown into his spine and, while it wasn't cancerous and could be controlled with medication, it was too close to the spinal cord to operate. It had already strangled the nerves until it had cut off all communication from the brain to his legs.

"It's a well known fact," the doctor droned in portentous tones. "That, in cases such as this, the healthy spouse will seek divorce. I would suggest counselling first, but - " he shrugged as if it were already too late.

"Doctor!" Kelly gasped in outrage that he would even suggest such a thing. She reached for Robert's hand to reassure him but he pulled slightly out of reach. Hurt, Kelly sat quietly as the doctor explained their course of treatment before he left.

"Robert, I - "

"Please, Kelly." He interrupted wearily. "Please, just go home. Get some sleep. We'll talk later." He tried to smile, failed and turned away.

Kelly wanted to argue, but knew Robert wouldn't hear her right now. Quietly, with a heavy heart, she left the room.


It took three days for Kelly to complete her self-appointed task. One of those days was spent tracking down what she needed, one was spent convincing the hospital grounds-keeper to cooperate with the crazy woman and one was spent pulling it all together. On the fourth day, she went to see Robert.

A male nurse was just settling Robert into a wheelchair when she strode briskly into Robert's room, a sunny smile firmly in place. "Oh, good. You're up. Come on, I have something to show you."

Robert was so surprised to see her he didn't think to argue as she thanked the nurse and wheeled him from the room. "Where are we going?"

"To show you why dandelions mean so much to me." was all Kelly said.

On the observation balcony she wheeled Robert close enough to see through the glass. On the lawn, spelled out in dandelions, were the words "I Love You."

"What - " he began.

"Granna Sloan always told me love was like a dandelion, deep rooted and stubborn so it can make it through the tough times. She said I had to make a choice, was my love deep rooted like a dandelion or shallow like a pretty flower. I made my choice when I married you, Robert. For better or worse."

Tears in his eyes, Robert took Kelly's hand and kissed it. "I love you, Kel. I was, I am just really scared."

"I know, honey. But, we love you, too. No matter what."

"We?" Robert frowned.

Kelly pushed him closer to the glass so he could see the end of the message. Robert gasped, then pulled her into his lap. Hand splayed over her still-flat stomach he gently kissed her, then, tears of joy in his eyes, leaned down to whisper, "Daddy loves you too, baby."