A wrinkly hand grazed past the pastel flowers embedded in the dirt, swaying delicately through the howling wind.
‘That there is a lily.’ Her melodic voice was soothing and wise, like she had perfectly planned each careful word. She pointed at the white lily with veins of pink: ‘It represents purity and innocence’. The precious lily just stood there, looking graceful as ever. Nan pulled out a stringy weed and explained how it could affect the other plants, but I kept my attention on the veined lilies.
Once they were done gardening, nan handed me a chocolate chip cookie with trembling hands.
‘Take care dear, you can always find me in the lilies,’ she stated, taking a tiny bite out of the biscuit and flashing a barely noticeable wink at me. That was weird’, I thought, replaying the wink and her words in my head.
‘Nan! Can we garden together!’ I exclaimed, rushing into nan’s cottage and searching for her. She wasn’t in her usual spots: her worn, frayed chair, the garden, the kitchen that smelled of fresh cookies and food made with love.
‘Wha- what? Where is she?’ I muttered silently, my smooth finger tracing along the chair she used to do everything in.
The funeral day came fast, way too fast. It was as if she wasn’t being mourned for long enough, like her life that she dedicated to the whole family didn’t matter. Everyone else continued their lives as if she was never here, smiling and living. I spent my days in my room, every garden I saw physically hurting me.
‘Why don’t you go visit her garden? Might make you feel better.’ Mum asked, as I took my bland dinner back to my room. My dirty dinner plates sitting there, ready to have a new addition to the stack.
The glaring sun blazed through the leafy trees and droopy vines outside my smeared window. My forgotten shoes were staring at me like they knew what was about to happen – the same shoes I wore to her house the last time I was there with her.
Creaaaak.
The door made the loudest sound possible as I crept out the house and left as quietly as I possibly could, kicking the rocks on the weathered road with my angst: I wanted to go but I also didn’t, for fear of looking up and completely breaking down in front of anyone walking by. The faded grass approached fast, the white brick wall of my nan’s cottage standing in the same place, but in my eyes it looked…different? I wound through the spiralling bushes and tall trees to that little spot in the garden, peppered with sunflowers and lilies. The same flowers my nan taught me so carefully about, their symbolism, their motto. One stunning lily stood there tall and proud in a ray of sunlight, emitting a sweet, summer smell. And just like she promised, she was there, hidden among the lilies.
Skye Bayliss, Year 6, Millthorpe Public School