“Dedicated to Aunt Francis my Other Mother”
Her knees bend forward away from the
worn out rocker, her legs getting their
bearings while she made a furrowed
brow, looking out the window at the
garden. “Everything dies”, she said
“Soon the fragrance of spring will be
She narrows her eyes looking into the
hedgerow at the end of her flowerbed
to see if the sparrow hawks have returned,
slowly she turns keeping contact with the
old chair, holding onto its worn arms. At
one-hundred years old, her soul still feeds
on emotions of the stillness of the sweet-
scented honeysuckle growing around her
weathered front porch.
Holding her breath she falls back into the
chair, it shudders under her weight; she
knows not to take her being able to stand
for granted. Closing her eyes to rest, bible
in hand, and her thoughts were none other
than she could get up and walk another time,
another spring. Maybe!
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6 thoughts on “Another Spring for Aunt Francis…”
Ah, bless her soul – the tribute you write to Aunt Francis is so touching, so vivid in caring
Awesome my lady!!!
All things of beauty must pass. May God bless her.
Very sweet and calming. 🙂
You brought this lovely lady alive! I was reminded of my grandma in her very own special chair and the way her old crooked fingers would grasp onto the arms of it. Do all old ladies have special chairs they are one with, their home within their home, I wonder? Thanks for sharing.
I suspect so! Ann
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