She’d been listening to those wind chimes on her porch her whole life. Her father had made them when she was born. He had hand crafted them so they would play a beautiful melody for his beautiful new daughter.
As she grew up, those wind chimes played throughout her life. They played with her while she was a toddler, exploring the large porch of her family’s farm house. They danced with her while she practiced for her first ballet recital. They cried with her when her daddy passed away. From then on, they only played a somber tune the heavied each day of her life. Although their songs ripped holes in her heart, she never took them down.
As she left for school and began a new life, she slowly forgot about her chimes. But even though her mind had forgotten them, her sullen heart still remembered their tune.
When she finished school, found the one she loved, and lost her mother, she ventured back to her old home. The chimes still hung on the porch. She began her family there. Her children enjoyed the chimes, but neither them nor her husband could understand the song those chimes played in her heart.
When her children left and her husband died too, the chimes remained. She sat back and closed her old, tired eyes. She’d rather listen and catch the beautiful sounds instead of the sights. The chimes continued to ring on her porch. They whistled and hummed, whispered and breathed. They sang a melancholy but glorious harmony.
She let the chimes sing her to sleep. She began to drift away. The chimes bid a sweet farewell as she flew away, off the porch, through the clouds, to the Heavens. Goodbye.
