Mother’s Garden

Carly loved walking though her mother’s garden. Especially the path that led to the tree in the middle. Once there, she sat and enjoyed the sights, sounds, smells, and peace the garden provided.

As she grew and had a family of her own, her trips to her mother’s garden grew less frequent, until finally they stopped altogether when her family moved out of town for her husband’s career.

The city had plenty to offer, but nothing compared to the peace the of her mother’s garden. She would close her eyes and transport herself back, but it the sounds and smells of the city made it nearly impossible to imagine.

Carly visited at least monthly at first, but the drive became to much and video chat replaced getting in the car.

Years passed and the trips had completely stopped. Until today. Carly got off the phone with her mother and knew she needed to be there. She packed quickly and drove hours to get back.

Carly parked outside her mother’s house and ran inside. She could smell the flowers, but her mom wasn’t inside.

She ran through to house and into the garden, making for the tree with the bench in the middle. The one they sat at, and she loved. It was there she found her mother, eyes closed, holding the flowers she loved.

It was there she buried her.  

This blog is form a prompt on Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo. It can be found at the #writephoto Photo Prompt.

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