Garden of Time

An old man reminisces about his childhood and the unrelenting trudge of time.

     The garden was overgrown now. Ivy climbed with a clingy desperation over the weathered brown brick of the steps. The dead sticks that were sunflowers stood as a testiment to how unfair and temporary life truly was. Trevor Lightner's ancient grey eyes looked over it all with a sadness reserved for graveyards and memorial monuments.
     There was a history here, and the fleeting remains of it were wilting without a soul aside from himself to care. Trevor took a deep breath and could almost catch the scent of the honeysuckle bush that had sprawled over the fence, so far extinct now that no trace was left to say it had ever existed.
     "Trevie, is that you boy?"
     His head turned in reflex to the back doorframe where the speaker would have been if it hadn't been a memory. His mother, blind since birth, always called him that. Back then he hated it, but time and lonliness had a way of endearing certain things to one's heart. A tear rolled down his cheek in silent protest.
     "Yes, mama. I'm here." He whispered it aloud to no one but himself, leaning on his stainless steel cane with care to the uneven footing. The sound of a gate swinging open on less-than-cared-for hinges drew his mind away from the past and he saw his adult granddaughter, Samantha, walking up to where he stood. She was a sweet girl and he was happy for her company. He hastily wiped at his face with the back of his leathery brown hand.
     "Papaw? What is it?" she inquired lightly.
     "Just the ghosts, honey, that's all. This old house was a rock of mine looooong time ago, " he took another deep breath, this time out of weariness, "I just never thought I'd see the day this house would have to come down. Did I ever tell you about the summer when your great-great aunt Macie stayed with us here?" The old man sat on the weathered green bench carefully to be certain it would hold his weight and his granddaughter followed suit shortly afterward. She recognized the past glazing his eyes and settled in for one of his infamous stories. So many people in their family just dismissed them, but she felt they were important and valuable...tales of a time so distant that soon no one would be alive to remember them. Her grandfather was also a great storyteller, despite all the groans around the holidays, and this was something she genuinely hadn't heard yet which was rare.