I love to look out the window into the gardens. I’ve always loved them so. Gardening was the one thing I did for my own well being. I wasn’t terribly concerned with the fact that my husband hated flowers, because they made me happy and besides, he never went outside anyway. When he died and left me the house, I expanded the gardens until it was all I could see out my window.
Now days I sit and feel the breeze through the screens that my granddaughter in law put up. I used to love being able to reach out and feel the flower petals, but now it just takes too much of my energy.
When I was in charge here, I had the gardens bursting with colorful blooms as long as I could. Now it seems that the blooming season is always cut short.
I’ve had to watch over the years as my family continued to dig up this flower bed for an ugly bench that nobody sits on, then dig up that flower bed for some science experiment gone wrong where nothing ever grew again. Then they dug up more flower beds to plant tomatoes and peppers.
Not that there is anything inherently wrong with vegetables, but I do dearly miss my flowers. Now they’re confined to one small bed and I really think that they only leave that in place because my favorite great great granddaughter Gladys seems to have inherited my love of the colorful blooms. The family, they’ll do anything for Gladys.
I don’t even feel bad for calling her my favorite. She’s the only one who ever talks to me or spends any time with me. I’m stuck here in my room, unable to go anywhere and yet the rest of my family walks by me as if I don’t exist. They come in and rearrange things or even take my things without saying as much as a how do you do. It’s really disheartening to know that my family doesn’t even care that I’m still here. That I’m desperately lonely, stuck here in this chair by the window.
If not for Gladys, I’d just be sitting here all alone, wasting away, watching as generation after generation takes my flowers away.
Of course, she’s the only one who can see me now that I’m dead and “gone” so I suppose I shouldn’t be quite so harsh on the rest of them. I’m just thankful that I still have Gladys to keep those last few flowers alive and blooming for me.