They sat peacefully in the garden. Her dressing gown lay draped over her favourite chair. It used to give her a clear view of all the wonderful flowers they planted together. Her basket still sat on the table where she worked. They felt as though they could not move a thing, fearing it would erase all memory of her.
He held his young daughter on his lap as he stared longingly at the table. In his mind’s eye, he could still see his wife toiling away – organising the seeds in her basket – and smiled to himself. He could hear her laughter, which always sounded like music to his ears. He never imagined going on without her, what they had made him feel that they would go on forever.
The back door opened, and he felt as if he was seeing a ghost. She walked towards him, blonde hair glistening in the sun light, as it always did on those long summer evenings.
‘Dad’ she whispered. He blinked himself awake – as if from a dream – to see his eldest standing before him. Tears rolled down his face. He feared the resemblance would drive him mad one day, but to see his wife’s face again, real or not, it made him smile even on the saddest day he would ever face. Collecting her little sister into her arms, she whispered again
‘It’s time to go, I know it’s hard but…’
‘We have to say good bye’ her father blubbed.
Taking her hand, he rose from his seat, and took another look around the garden. He ran his hand along her dressing gown, reminding himself of how soft it felt and seeing in his head how beautiful she had always looked cloaked in its warmth.
‘You may be gone from this earth, my love’ he thought to himself, maybe even hoping that somewhere out there she could still hear him, ‘but never from my heart’
