He walked through the house, memories were flowing. Children playing. Him, his sister, happier than anywhere else. Laughing and playing when the house was still full of life.
He walked to the window, pulled the curtain aside. The old tree stood there in all it splendour, looking fresh and alive. It had been dead for years, now he could here the wind whisper in its leaves. A shadow stood underneath it, a silhouette of a figure, a person.
For a long time they stood there, watching each other. A deep connection. A reflection from somewhere within. She waved, like she had done so many times before, each time they had left, each time the vacation was over.
As the figure faded and disappeared and the tree once again returned to the naked trunk it had been for so long, she lingered on in his heart. She was still there, she always would be, until the day it stopped beating.
In memory of my beloved grandma. She lived for a hundred years, keeping her extraordinary mind until the very end. You will be sorely missed.