+8 votes
409 views
in 2016 Writing Decathlon by (17.6k points)
I walked through down the hill of tall green grass and wildflowers, my long brown hair blowing in the wind. In one hand I hold a bouquet of lavender and roses, the other a photo. Below is a cemetery, with flowers decorated the stones. As I kneel down next to a pink, heart shaped gravestone, the memories all come flooding back.

I don’t remember mother very well. She would come into my room every night and tuck me in. Her beautiful voice and scent of rose perfume would lullaby me to sleep, and then, right before I drifted into dreamland, she would place my little purple stuffed bear, Stuffy, beside me. She would say she loved me, and quietly leave the room.

She loved my father so much, and everything seemed to glow with a cheery light when she was around. Her favorite color was purple. She loved gardening. I remember how I would help her plant flowers along the house. I wasn’t really much of a help, I would get dirty and splash water on us when I tried to water the plants, but she didn’t yell. She would laugh and I would laugh and everything would be great. I remember when I scraped my knee or fell off the swing or hit my head, she would always heal it with kisses and hugs. She called me her little sunshine. I loved her more than anything.

I only remember her crying once. She had just gotten back from the doctor. She’d been to the doctor a lot, but I didn’t see why this would make her cry. I tried to make her feel better by giving her Stuffy, and she would hug him and me and try to stop crying. After that, something about her was different. She was still happy on the outside, but she wouldn’t glow like she did. I heard someone say “cancer” and “not much time”, but I didn’t know what that meant. A few months later, Daddy told me Mommy had gone to be with Jesus. I was happy for her and couldn’t wait for her to come back to tell me about the visit.

We went to a special church service. I was confused, we didn’t usually go to church on Tuesdays. People cried. Daddy cried. The preacher spoke. I wondered what all the fuss was about. Then I found out.

Mommy was asleep in a nice bed. She was wearing her favorite purple dress and smelled like roses – as always. I tried to shake her awake, but daddy pulled my hand away and said Mommy wouldn’t be waking up. I thought she would get lonely, sleeping all by herself without Daddy, so I placed Stuffy in the bed beside her. People around me started crying. I watched as they closed the lid of the bed, and drove to the cemetery. I ran around, frolicking in the wind and having a great time. I wondered when Mommy would wake up and play with me. Daddy called me, and I watched as they lowered the bed into the ground. I started crying. “But I wanted Mommy to play with me! What are they doing, Daddy? What is happening to Mommy? What if she can’t breathe under there?” I was crying, begging them to let Mommy out to play with me. Daddy pulled me away and we drove home, leaving Mommy in the ground all by herself.

Tears streamed down my face as I placed the flowers and the photo of me and my mother by the grave. I cried, missing her terribly. Even though it was ten years ago, I still missed the rose perfume. The love. The glow of Mommy’s smile.

I felt two hands on my shoulders.

“Come on, Kaylyn, let’s go,” my father said. I nodded, standing and walking away with him, leaving Mommy alone once again. As we got into the car, my father handed me something.

It was Stuffy.

I started crying again as I took him and hugged him, smelling the faint scent of roses. No matter what, I would always have a part of my mother with me.

​Note: This was based on a true story.



2 Answers

+1 vote
by (45.3k points)

You should become a real author! For sure. 

yesyesyesyesyesyes

+2 votes
by (134k points)
Beautiful.
by (17.6k points)
thank you!



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