Nothing but dust

With heartache she stands, before her house of old, the place she called home, the place she had hoped to hold on forever, but now must leave, for it belongs to another. One last time she filled her senses, with the warmth that had once been her sanctuary, where she reared her children and gave wings to their dreams. The sloping roof, the red tiles, the polished front door with its knocker so gold, the plants she tended, now standing tall, oh the memories like old friends, came rushing , with every ragged breath .

Walking in, she is greeted by laughter from the days of her past. Looking around longingly, to catch sight of those happy times, all she finds is dust, covering every surface. The dust of a time gone by, a life that could never be visited again . Each mote, whirling around like fireflies, and she heard them say in delight, “it’s been a long time dear friend since you have been away, since you left for another shore”. The welcome she felt, broke her crumbling heart, and she wondered if they knew, she was here to say her last goodbye.

To her ears fall the distant sound of whispers and running feet. Straining her eyes through the dust, she sees them, her children and little they were again. The beautiful girl, her face filled with mischief, the boy following close, trying hard not to reveal their little secret. Dashing around, with no moment to spare, they grew too soon, under their mother’s loving and watchful care. Discipline their father’s forte, as in the evenings they gathered together at the table, for prayers and supper. Looking around that table now, searching, all she sees, is the dust,of those happy days .

In the kitchen she glimpsed those busy school days ! Rising early, packing lunch boxes, attending to last minute homework. The sound of pots and pans as she moved them, like unforgotten music to her ears. The lovely Sunday lunches, and Christmas dinners, came flashing by. Their lives then so full of joyous moments, with no thought for tomorrow or what lay ahead. Sad and forlorn, she longed for those times, to see her little girl once again, the one who had only recently been interred, but all that was left, was the infernal dust .

Her baby, smart as a whip, sharp of wit, and her beauty no less, had always been her mother’s champion. Peering in the bedroom, hoping to catch sight of that beloved face, only brought torrents of grief. The books she read, the music she heard, her favourite dress still hanging in the cupboard. The table with her hair brush, the picture of her first crush, everything untouched , remained the same, but alas, her little girl was no more, and all around was, only the inescapable dust.

Her heart felt like it was torn from her chest, as she looked at her daughter’s possessions, undisturbed. Every room, every space, held her presence and yet she was gone, hidden behind the pall of death . With each wave of pain, came the staggering weight of sorrow, as she bid farewell. Her last connection, the home where her precious child had grown, would soon belong to someone else, and all that was left of her life, all she would carry with her, was the warm embrace of the swirling dust, and memories of a cherished lifetime.