
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Jennifer clutched the vase of shells and looked over the ocean.
“Don’t they miss the water, Gamma?”
“These shells like to travel, Jenny-bean! Most shells stay in the ocean, but adventurous ones come on shore to meet people. To live a new life!”
“Maybe they miss home.”
“If they stay in this jar, they’ll live forever.” Grandma was quiet. She took Jenny’s tiny hand. “They’re my special memories. But will you take them back home someday?”
Jenny nodded.
Scattering the shells, Jennifer whispered through tears, “Goodbye, Grandma.”
Wandering toward the car, she paused, chuckled, and picked up a calico scallop.
As always, many thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers! Stop over and read a wonderful array of 100-word-fiction pieces based on this photo prompt!
Scattering the shells seems like a perfectly sound ritual. Though it may not have been what the grandmother had in mind for the promise
LikeLiked by 1 person
You may be right! The way I saw it, Grandma was trying to honor her granddaughter’s wish to let the shells go, but maybe she was hoping Jennifer would keep the collection going. Thanks for the comment, Neil!
LikeLike
Angela, such a lovely story ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLike
Another lovely story of love. There have been so many this, but that’s the great thing about FF, because all so different. I liked the way you melded the memory with the act of farewell.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s always fun to see how the stories are similar and different! Thank you so much for your comment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
it was the right thing to bring them back home where they belong.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Plaridel, I agree. I think it was time to let them see the seashore again, start the next phase of their existence. Thanks for your comment!
LikeLiked by 1 person
hat was soooo sadly beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. My Gran had two red-tail hawk feathers (Her native name was Two Hawks), and she said something similar to me before she passed. I really wanted to keep them, but she had asked, in that soft little voice she used when it was something close to her soul. So, I released them to the wind the day she died. Later, I went to her grave to see that the ordered stone had been placed and to leave her favorite flowers. As I was standing there, a feather floated down and landed on the stone. I looked up, and a red tail hawk was perched on a branch at the top of the tree. I thanked him, blew a kiss and picked it up. It’s usually in my cedar box, but it is out with my nativity this season. It’s sooooo special to me. Like a gift from Heaven.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bon Lee, your comment was far and away the best part of this week’s writing project! Thank you so much for sharing your beautiful memory. I so hope you’ve written the whole thing down. You could probably get that published in something like Chicken Soup for the Soul if you want to share it with a larger audience. Again, thank you for sharing!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m thrilled that you enjoyed it. I have shared the story on occasion. Thank you.
LikeLike
Lovely!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dawn, thank you for reading and commenting!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear Angela,
Perhaps my kids and grandkids will do that for me some day. 😉 Lovely story.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hehe, perhaps they will! Thank you for sharing your beautiful photo, Rochelle, and for reading and commenting.
LikeLike
Perhaps someday, Jennifer’s granddaughter will do the same with her shells and so on.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s a great idea! I love that sort of family tradition. Thank you for your comment!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such a gentle, nostalgic feel to this. Loved it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sandra, thank you so much for your comment.
LikeLike
Oh this is lovely and sad… I was more emotional than I thought at the end there.
LikeLike