The Tiny House


It was a tiny house really, but she always felt that it was filled with love. Even though her husband had passed away more than three years ago, she could often still feel his presence.

Mostly, she knew he was there for each meal, at the table. And sometimes when she was outside, she could see his spirit, fishing at the river next to their house. She always kept his favorite rod and reel, by the front door, in case he needed it.

Maybe he wasn’t using an actual rod and reel, because she figured everything about him now was spirit, but it was comforting to know he still practiced his favorite hobby.

Even though she was almost 90 years old now, she still got around just fine, and she could even tend to the tulips surrounding their home every spring. It had been her husband Jacob’s idea, to have tulips on each side, and even down along a walkway to the river.

At the breakfast table one morning she remembered him saying, as if it was yesterday, “Anna, it reminds me so much of growing up in Holland”. She still smiled at him saying that, even after all this time, especially with his beautiful Dutch accent. Was it his accent that first attracted her to him? How she missed his…. strength.

The phone rang, and as she took the three steps to the living room, she dreaded picking it up after seeing the caller ID. It was her daughter calling again, trying to convince her to leave her tiny home, filled with love.


To be concluded the middle part of this week!


Writing and Image © Copyright 2017, Blue Skies in the Morning


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