Everytime I drive past this cottage, I wonder what its history is, wishing it could talk to me |
It was a cottage that had seen better days. The roof was patched yet still open to the weather in places. The windows were missing, leaving open, empty eyes offering a view into the cottage. The inside of the cottage was dusty and dirty, bare of any evidence of human existence.
Jesse walked up to the door, which wasn’t latched, and pushed it open. The sun shone in, reflecting off the dust motes in the air. There was a wooden table with two chairs around it. Under the window was a bed, no blankets or a pillow, just the frame with a dirty mattress on top.
Jesse glanced to her left, where the kitchen would have been. There were cabinets, a sink and a big cook-in fireplace. In the box next to the fireplace was wood, stacked and ready to get a fire started. One cabinet door was hanging from its hinges and in the cabinet, Jesse could see a rusted can of something.
Jesse wandered over to the window to see what the view offered. She was looking over a field of headstones in the cemetery. Many of the stones were covered in flowers, some with flags that marked the veterans, lots were so old their names had been rubbed off over the years, and then there were the new ones, the ones that were memorials to the recently deceased.
As Jesse looked past the cemetery, she saw the highway flowing by. That certainly wasn’t there when the caretakers cottage was inhabited, Jesse thought. She could imagine the changes that had happened over the years to the caretakers cottage.
In her mind, Jesse saw the caretaker standing outside his new cottage, admiring the roof and the solid door. The inside of was clean and new, the windows covered with cheerful curtains and flowers in a vase on the table. Another scene she imagined was the caretaker and his wife planting a tree together in front of the cottage. Jesse imagined the caretaker and his wife comforting a devastated husband as he made arrangements for his wife to be interred for eternity.
The caretaker and his wife worked together to maintain the graveyard, trimming the grass around the headstones, removing old flowers, and fixing any headstones over the years. On All Hallows Eve, the caretaker would chase the mischievous neighborhood kids out before they could cause trouble.
Eventually, it was time for the caretaker’s wife to be interred in the cemetery. He was the devastated husband who needed comforting. He would start each day wishing her a good morning, as her grave was close to the cottage where they’d shared many happy years.
It was harder for the caretaker to take care of the cemetery and his cottage. It wasn’t long before he joined his beloved wife in the cemetery. They were able to keep an eye on their cottage together.
There was no new caretaker for the cottage, the care of the cemetery was contracted out to a lawn company. The cottage was left empty, just a memory of times past.
Jesse took one final glance around and headed out of the cottage. She closed the door and viewed the outside once more. There had to be so many memories in the walls of the caretakers cottage, memories that couldn't be shared anymore.
I love the stories of OLD things forgotten. Amy...good one.
ReplyDeleteooo magical...i know there are stories there...and would love a little house like that to retire to you know...
ReplyDeleteThat was so touching. Beautifully narrated. :)
ReplyDeleteSome stories are lucky enough to be saved for all time while other stories become lost forever once the storyteller passes away. I so wish I could get my mom to be willing to let us tape her stories. Each day that passes by she remembers less and less. She just does not think they are important, but to us they are a part of our family history.
ReplyDeleteYou had me in the room looking around too. Thank you so much for taking us on a visit for this weeks Theme Thursday.
God bless.