The Memory Seat

The old rocking chair under the ornamental pear was her memory seat; she loved all seasons in that chair. Spring and Summer were beautiful, but nothing compared to the beauty of watching the leaves of the Red Spire pear fall at her feet as the cool winds increased. They had shared a blanket and their dreams under that tree, whispering their secret names, reciting poetry, sharing their love while the red leaves lay like rose petals across their knees.

Now she sat alone in silence. Each day she insisted on going to the memory seat although she could see the worried brow and the sad eyes of her daughter as she watched through the kitchen window. Today her granddaughter and great granddaughter were to visit, but still she sat under the pear tree in the watery sunshine.

The kitchen door swung open and her daughter carried a blanket and toys, laying the rug in a patch of sun. Her granddaughter placed the little girl at her feet. She watched her play for a few minutes before drifting back into her own memories. She was tired, always so tired and she had waited so long.

A word swirled around her, carried on the wind.  A word – his word.  She opened her eyes and smiled down at the baby.

‘She said a new word Gran!’ her granddaughter was excited.

‘Bub-ble,’ the baby again formed the word pointing at the bubbles her mother was blowing.

‘Bub-ble.’

A tear spilled from her eye and rolled gently down her face. She had promised to wait beneath the Red Spire until he called.

‘Bub-ble.’ the baby girl giggled and her mother and grandmother shared a delighted smile.

‘Bub-ble.’

Her eyes were so very tired.

‘I’m coming my darling,’ she smiled down at her family.

‘It’s time,’ she murmured, ’Froth is calling.’……..

She had left their favorite poem for her daughter to read at the funeral.

“Life is mostly froth and bubble,
Two things stand like stone.
Kindness in another’s trouble,
Courage in your own.”

~ Adam Lindsay Gordon