Eight weeks.
Back sometime in 2001, Mr C’s mum gave me a peace lily. I used to keep it in my office when I worked in advertising. It flowered a lot when it was young, but it’s been all leaves for years now.
The day after Henry died, I noticed a flash of white amongst the green, and I’ve been watching it slowly unfurl ever since.
This is Henry’s lily now, and it always will be.