Source: Thursday photo prompt: Way-stone #writephoto
Word count: 250 words
No one told me the truth. Not until it was too late. It took years to find. I spent my free time tracking leads, digging through documents and asking strangers intimate and private details.
Today I was deep in the woods following the Plat of Survey from the County Assessor’s Office. The town was named for the family who first settled the land, her name. The town grew, but times changed, and the children left for larger towns and cities seeking more opportunities, more jobs, more life. If you took a chance, you could leave small-town life and small-town values.
The children never returned. Parents died leaving a ghost town echoing with their unfulfilled dreams. A gas station and a diner remained in the boarded-up town, a convenience for travelers as they headed elsewhere.
The woods were peaceful, the birds sang, and squirrels scampered in the trees as I walked the old overgrown path. No one visited. A forgotten fence lay rotting on the ground while forest plants grew, threatening to obliterate the site. Moss-covered stones melted into nature. I tore the moss from marker faces, wiped the grim hiding what I sought.
My search didn’t take long. Her name was carved beneath the words “Devoted Daughter” followed by birth and death dates. They were all that remained to bear testimony of her life. My hand caressed a name hardened, etched upon my mind, my final connection. I knelt at her grave, and whispered, “Hi Mom. Do you remember me?”
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer