This is my lowly link in a chain or very talented
bloggers writers. They have all written some very beautiful pieces, please do follow the button and read them – and thank you for letting me join in – I feel humbled! So given a choice of three prompts, I chose number 2 – Mother. This is a post I wrote a while ago but didn’t feel ready to post – now it feels like time!
I should warn my family – there may be tears! – there were when I wrote it!
The evening sun shines through the leaves of the cherry tree and the warm summer air is full of the smell of rose blossom. There is the sound of children splashing in a paddling pool, squeals of delight between siblings, making the most of playtime before bath and bed.
A dog barks to have his ball thrown in a game of retrieve and the joy of a family afternoon in the garden is complete…..
As i sit in the this chair undef the tree, face raised to the sky, eyes shut tight against the brightness of the sun, I can hear you.
I can hear you call from the house
“does anyone want a drink?” i wait for Dad to respond fist as he always does and consider my answer as I wait my turn.
There is a pause, Dad doesn’t answer… i open my eyes and look about me in surprise. Dad is not there,he’s at his own house and I am at mine. The children are in the next door garden, the dog with them.
The smell of the rose is right, it’s yours, the one that grew on the patio, but your voice is my imagination, wishful thinking, but you don’t ask us questions any more, you are no longer here.
Your voice is in my memory though and if i close my eyes again I can hear you, sometimes even see your smile.
If i bury my nose in the rose bush it takes me back to those days of childhood and happy summer afternoons in the garden. Home-made ice lollies, new potatoes and salad for tea. Falling into bed scrubbed clean from a bubble bath. the last rays of sunlight peaking round the curtains. Hearing your voice from the garden as you laugh at a joke from Dad. The rattle of the garage door as he puts the lawn mower away and the runners on the patio door as you both come in for the night.
I think I’ll miss you more this summer Mum. You’d have loved this garden so much, your rose bush in flower, the cherry tree so like the one we had as children. I think of you every time I’m in it,wearing your yellow work gloves as I do. i can hear your advice in my head and secretly seek your approval on my purchases at the garden centre.
Know that you are missed darling mum and that still a day doesn’t go past that I don’t think of you, long to share something with you.
Much love as ever