I rang the doorbell, with a tray of homemade apple crumble in my hands. A kindly looking gentleman wearing a soft peak cap opened the door and ushered me into a room.
A very familiar room where we used to drink coffee and exchanged stories. A room where I could admire the lovely green garden outside. She baked delicious scones that we ate with freshly whipped cream and jam. I could still hear her laughter.
Now the table was laden with loads of interesting crafting bits.
"You can take whatever you like, the rest I will give to charity." he said.
So I went through every box and every bag. Knitting wool, patchwork fabric, card making stuff and more. Finished projects. Unfinished projects. All up my alley.
As I touched the fabric and every small thing I could feel the hands that once touched them. There was a bag of little woollen caps that she had knitted for preemies. She was there cradling every cap.
After a while, he came back into the room and gave me a box to put the stuff in and then walked me to the door. I gave him a hug and he asked me,
"Can I put the apple crumble in the microwave?" he asked.
"Yes, scoop whatever you want and put it on a plate and warm it up in the microwave. Do not put the whole aluminum tray into it." I replied.
I bade him goodbye and when he was out of sight, I cried and cried all the way home.
No comments:
Post a Comment