This morning I woke up and got dressed. Pants felt like cardboard.
At ten, mom made a social call. She had brought sweet potatoes.
Noon came with a smell of nutmeg from the kitchen.
I opened the window.
Mother has always been a great hostess. “Hello, yes of course”, “It’s so thoughtful of you”, “Yes she’s gonna be ok”. Voices fill the living room but I avoid them.
The afternoon feels like a century.
I welcome the evening with a plaid and a cup of tea and a relieved smile. The wind blows on the red and yellow leaves and carries them in the backyard. Soon, the time will come.
Just after the sunset, mother kisses me on top of my head and gently closes the front door.
A cold breeze crosses my room.
“Was it a beautiful gathering ?” he asked.
“Very emotional, they all loved you very much”
“Your mother did a great job.”
“I’m glad we can finally be together again” I confessed.
Just before midnight, I wrap myself in a warm blanket. The ghost of my late husband closes his arms around my shoulders and sings our song.
This post is an answer to writing 101 day 14 assignment : Recreate another day.