Margaret – A Year

It’s almost a year since I was told you’d passed. I sit replanting your primroses in my garden. The heat took its toll on them last summer.

My mind wanders back to our childhood, how you shared your orange with me some lunchtimes. I would watch you walk past the school oval on your way to your piano lessons to sit for half an hour with Miss Knight. I’d wanted to go as well. I see the ribbons in your dark plaits, always so pretty. One time we kept each other warm in bed at your grandmother and grandfather’s home at Lune River. I was excited to be invited to spend the weekend with you. Pouring my heart into your primulas, I recall you being sad when I told you I was going to boarding school, or so I thought. You said: “Be sure you take piano lessons.” I was never to see you again. We are once again engaged in giggles and chatter as I sit with your primroses, caring for them, grateful for your memory.