The Weeping Willow

The man held a cylinder container toward his granddaughter, “This is for you but it’s not a toy.”  The child’s four year old hands reached for the decorated tin and took possession while listening to her grandfather speak.  “Inside are some of Grandma’s ashes and we’re going to spread them beneath her willow tree.”

   

Although the child was not yet two when the woman passed they had had a strong connection and she remembered more about her grandmother than could be expected of someone so young.   She understood why the object she held was not a toy and she knew how special the willow was because her uncle, who was now holding her hand, had shared the stories before he hung her swing underneath the tree’s protective canopy.

As the child’s aunt and mother led them slowly down the hill, her grandfather explained what she already knew,  “Your grandmother and uncle planted this tree when we built our home, and she watched it every day as it grew.  When she became sick it was fully grown, but she still watched it each morning while the sun came up.  It made your Grandma very happy.”

The family stood above the tree’s roots that were buried deep beneath, unsure of how to begin when the beautiful little girl broke the silence, “Okay, we need to hold hands.”   The four gave each other an amused grin and did as the child instructed before she said a few words that meant nothing in particular yet everything in the world.  When she finished speaking they took their individual tins and, one by one, let a little more of the woman they loved go.  

When the last of the ashes were beneath the tree the child took some of the fallen leaves and placed them in her container.  “This is where we put our heart pieces,” she said.  Her family observed in silence and wonder.  “And now we need to hold hands again, but this time we need to stand in a circle.”  She didn’t form sentences but spoke words of importance with more purpose than before, and as she came to a close a breeze blew in.  The child looked up with satisfaction, “See, that got the leaves going.”  

With astonished laughter and sun filled tears they listened to the tree’s whispers until all was said and carried away with the wind. A moment later the family made their way up the hill with their mystical communion floating in their heads and their heart pieces in beautifully wrapped tin.  

-Kelli Parker, 2014