Carrie Baker – The Growth Collective

Photo credit :: pixaby / pexels

The dappled sunlight sent dancing shadows over her eyelids.

She felt the movement of light and shadows, as each slid over her face.

The scent of Spring blew in on a gentle breeze, carrying with it, the song of a blackbird.

A contented sigh escaped her lips as she heard her children outside. There they were, playing with the dog. One throwing the ball and the other trying to get the get the ball before the dog did. It was their favourite game.

Plunging her hands into the warm sudsy water, the smell of apple fairy liquid enveloped her as she washed their breakfast dishes. 

A sudden change in light, a shadow blocked it out and felt the chill of its absence. 

Looking out of the window, she could no longer see her children playing with their beloved dog. 

The garden she saw was unfamiliar.

Looking down, she was no longer standing at the sink in her kitchen, but sitting. A crocheted blanked neatly covered boney knees, and withered hands rested upon it.

Confused, she looked up and her eyes rested on a lady in blue. “Elizabeth, it’s time for tea.” The lady stated in an efficient manner.

A rising fear began to spread across her chest, as she worried where her children were. The lady in blue took those fraile hands and gently pulled her out of the chair.

The crocheted blanket fell to the floor in a pool around her slippers. Thinking she might pick it up, a wave of weariness came over her.

A tear spilled over and slid down her cheek, as an arm around her guided a body that didn’t belong to her.

More tears as she tried to recall the names of her children, so she could ask after them. “Where are my…….?” The words were gone, as they fluttered away somewhere, like so many other lost things. 

“Your children will be here tomorrow, with your grandchildren, they come every Sunday. Your son is bringing his new baby.” 

“Baby…” a voice repeated.

They slowly passed many doors to the sounds of her slippered feet, finally stopping at one. The arm around her steered her in. The room was small, with minimal furnishings. 

Her eyes were drawn to the many photos of captured moments, hung in order along the walls.

A whole lifetime…

Hers.