Contrary to what their name implies, not all paperwhites are white.

Every year in January, the paperwhites at the top of your driveway blossomed with tiny, heavenly-scented trumpets of yellow and cream.

Every year, you would grab a large pair of kitchen shears and snip a generous bouquet for me.

When I got home, I would peel off the wet paper towels you had wrapped around the stems and arrange the flowers in a small ceramic chicken jug.

I do not know if you were able to enjoy your paperwhites this year, but I imagine them blossoming for you.

This year in late January, I realised I would see neither you nor your paperwhites again. So I planted an assortment of narcissus bulbs and dedicated them to you.

I also planted some little round blue star bulbs. I buried a couple of them in a glazed ceramic pot.

Toward the end of April, two stubby shoots emerged from the pot’s soil and I watched and waited for them to open up over the next couple of days.

The flowers that finally presented themselves to me were neither blue nor stars, but yellow and cream. They are not quite your paperwhites. They are more like miniature roses than trumpets. But their fragrance is unmistakeable.