Most days the house sits empty and silent, waiting. The Master and Mistress are gone. He won't ever be coming home. She comes for little visits when her son picks her up at her Assisted Living apartment in town.
In the land surrounding her old home the grass grows long and wild, edging out the flowers lovingly planted long years ago. No one does much there any more. The sole occupant, the mistress' precious baby (a border collie) waits too. In the evenings, the faithful son comes to feed her. All day long, she keeps herself hidden - out of sight of passers-by. But when he comes, oh then she comes to life. She twirls in circles and races along the fence-line - a blur of black and white.
She visited today, this sweet mistress, and we stopped our walk to say hello. Her dog walked slowly beside her, head down and tail tucked in. She seemed to know her mistress would be leaving again soon.
"Hello neighbor." She greeted us with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. We don't know each other well (we lived here only a short time before her husband passed away), but I know she is kind and gentle. She clutched a tiny bouquet in her hand - Lantana and Rosemary - something of home to bring back to her new place.
We wave good-by, and I feel the sadness of endings both large and small.
Blessings,
Linda
