TulipsA Story by Gabby A true story about the loss and memory of my best friend, and how her memory has kept me going. Tulips
I always walk down the same path. On my way to visit you, every step hurting as bad as the last one, if not a bit more. As I round the corner I can still smell them, the tulips. They bring back sweet memories of when we were six, walking to my house to have lunch and play barbies, you pointing out the tulips saying that you loved the colour and smell. I walk into the store and pick up a few. The lady at the register looks up at me and says: They won't last in the snow you know. I stare at the flowers and say: Thats why I get new ones every week. I turn another corner and walk past the green park. I turn in and sit on the old roundabout, the place where we spun and spun until we felt like we'd be sick. Spinning, Spinning, Spinning still, but I haven't touched the disk that spins the ride. I get up again and brush snow off my jeans and keep walking. I walk up the steps and onto the street. I stop for a moment and stare at the field near the school. White, pure, faultless snow blankets across the vast field stretching from Village to Raindle street. When I look at the field I can still see the tracks we'd make in the snow so the sleds would move faster. The wind in our faces and the powder spilling off the sides of the tracks, screams of laughter, joy and delight filling the empty space around us. The innocence of being 8 propelling us onwards as we dragged the yellow sled up the hill passing the snowmen made in the morning. That was our last winter together. I continue up the path and go through the school parking lot. Passing dirt bikes, SUV's and cars bearing chains. I walk past the fountain and memories flood back to me still. Summer days of sitting in the fountain, water balloons and ice lollies sweep through my mind, Hot asphalt burning the soles of our feet as we run to the shade. I continue my trek through the foot deep snow, walking past the corner shop where we used to buy lollies 50 cents apiece after school. We'd compare our gummy snake sizes and decide who's was bigger, stretching them between our teeth to beat the other. I shake my head through the thick fog and swirling snow and look up at the old church. The same place we sat for start of school mass and giggle about the boys new haircuts and how many cooties they had. For the past 7 years that same place that made me laugh in the middle of a sermon, now brings me to tears every time I go there. I finally reach you through the snow and go to sit in front of you. I move the tulips from last week, damp and frozen from the snow fall, and out them in the compost. I put down the new bouquet and tell you what I tell you every week. “ I miss you” The scars on my right foot begin throb like they always do. The sense of pain, somehow links itself to its origin and reason. I place my hand on the cold Granite, scripted with your name, age, and last day. There is so much thats changed so much I want to tell you. Like how I finally broke down and burnt into myself, how your family talks about you everyday. I want to tell you that now you have two sister, both of them just like you. Both tattoo'd with that bright shining smile, that made you feel like everything was going to be okay. Sometimes I wish I could join you, to hold your hand again and to tell you all this. But for so many years, its been you that keeps propelling me on. © 2013 GabbyAuthor's Note
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