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| PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright Janet Webb |
When growing up, I watched my mother wield a large pair of
clippers and go at the Cherry Blossoms that edged our yard. She would fill a vase with warm water
and dunk the spindly branches with buds that were still tight.
Within a week we would witness the unfurling with an unbounded joy
that still stays with me.
In the first year without her, an unseasonal storm left us
carpeted under snow. When it was over I ventured
outside with the clippers in my hand.
Later the family gathered around the flowers and inhaled the
fragrance of her memories.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100
No songs this time only a link to a poem
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Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100
No songs this time only a link to a poem
Loved it <3 Great story.
ReplyDeleteThanks Archita, I am glad you liked it.
DeleteI enjoyed the memories--especially "inhaled." That's a particularly good turn of phrase.
ReplyDeleteAll my best,
Marie Gail
Thank you Marie Gail for your words of appreciation.
DeleteLovely memories in this piece.
ReplyDeleteThanks Alicia, it's memories like these that keep us connected to our loved ones.
DeleteThere is no sense that evokes memories better than smell.. I especially like the extra cold winter that works as a metaphor for sorrow as well...
ReplyDeleteThanks Björn I am glad you liked it. I was aiming for those associations that you talk of.
Deletealways the memories, both haunting and beautiful. nicely written
ReplyDeleteThank you, I am glad you liked it.
DeleteDear Subroto,
ReplyDeleteWhat a loving way to remember his mother. A tender story with a sweet fragrance.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks Rochelle there is no other way to remember mothers :-)
DeleteI love the metaphors in this story. Coming out from the chill of a particularly harsh winter and the shock to the system of losing a loved one, the narrator finds a way to take ownership of his/her grief by choosing this unique and beautiful way to remember her. Beautifully told
ReplyDeleteThanks os much your your comments Siobhán. I am glad you liked it.
DeleteLovely memories.....
ReplyDeleteLily
Thanks Lily, I am glad you liked it.
Delete"inhaled the fragrance of her memories"...lovely.
ReplyDeleteThanks Dawn, I am glad you liked it,
DeleteSubroto, Lovely story of remembrance. Well written. :) --- Susan
ReplyDeleteThanks for your comments Susan, I am glad you liked it.
DeleteI really like how you've set the story up in the first paragraph with a slow-paced reminiscence. The mother comes alive in this section. The transition to the narrator venturing out to take her place is so moving. A lovely story.
ReplyDeleteThanks Margaret for your lovely comments.
DeleteYes, once we lose the people we love, their memories haunt us for a long time - if not lifetime :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Pankti.
DeleteThat much more meaningful, given her loss. I loved this one when you first wrote it, but particularly poignant now. Healing thoughts, sent your way.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for you wishes Dawn.
DeleteI have landed here from your piece 'Chronicle of the Nomad', not sure if I'd have been aware of a loss so eternal. Ever since you have bound yourself in the shackles of 100 words, I've been reading your posts with the grudge that you have been withholding from me a stream so pure. I have come to reconcile myself with the truth though, and the tightly wrought beauty of these powerfully packed compositions have helped so much. Carry on, my friend!
ReplyDeleteThank you Umashankar for those gracious words.
Delete