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.


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.


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

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    3 years ago

    A lovely story, ending with a lovely poem. I love it when a story introduces me to a poet or a wonderful quotation. Thank you, Mary.

    musing mind
    musing mind(@musing-mind)
    3 years ago

    Poetry fabricated very well with a lovely story. Loved reading it.

    Susan Dawson
    Susan Dawson(@susan-dawson)
    3 years ago

    Strange how often gardens bring us to end of life stories, isn’t it! It shows how peaceful experience was out there, and how we all want to associate end of life with that.

    Sandra James
    Sandra James(@sandra-james)
    3 years ago

    A beautiful story, Mary, and a lovely way to leave this earth, in a garden full of memories, peaceful and with loved ones near. I love the poem; long before I knew anything about Adam Lindsay Gordon, someone quoted it in my childhood autograph book. A perfect ending!

    Eric Radcliffe
    Eric Radcliffe(@eric-radcliffe)
    2 years ago

    Hello Mary, what a tender story that leads to a wonderful poem at the end. Some of the valuable things that happen when we write are the comments, because that is one way that we can come to understand how different people interpreted what has been written. Very often we can get a different insight through their comments. I’ve read lots of stories where leaving this amazing world becomes a problem, for… Read more »

    Lotchie Carmelo
    Lotchie Carmelo(@lotchie-carmelo)
    2 years ago

    I love it. A very nice story that ends with a very wonderful poem.

    Katerina Bizirtsaki
    Katerina Bizirtsaki(@katerina-bizirtsaki)
    2 years ago

    Mary, what a wonderful story you’ve written! Or should I say one of the many you’ve gifted us with. I especially loved how you included a piece of poetry in it!

    Katerina Bizirtsaki
    Katerina Bizirtsaki(@katerina-bizirtsaki)
    Reply to  Mary Wallace
    2 years ago

    You’re very welcome, Mary!

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