Marigolds

As Grace awakened, out of a deep slumber, she heard the words echo in her thoughts, “don’t forget the marigolds”.

But as always, the unexplained was cast aside and forgotten almost immediately. She got up and readied herself for work, donning her only presentable garment. “Simple and Sensible is best” her mother’s voice would often remind her.

But oh how Grace longed for a beautifully crafted garment like the ones she saw in the dress shop windows whenever she cycled through town. Grace sighed as she put the finishing touches on her neat chignon and minimal make-up.

Today Grace rode to work a different way to avoid the dress shops and happened by a flower shop. The most intoxicating scents drew her, before she knew it, she was turned around and back at the shop. Actually more like a stand with a variety of delicate and hearty plants, each with soft colorful petals of all shapes and sizes. As Grace stood their taking it all in, the Florist thrust some flowers with bright yellow and deep red petals with a hint of gold into her hands. The Florist assistant joined in and went on about the sale that was on for that particular flower but oh they did not smell pleasant at all. The lady reassured Grace that they were an absolute must for any garden. Grace didn’t know much about gardens and the woman was so compelling that Grace gave in and purchased the flowers.

Peddling at a faster pace, not wanting to be late, she arrived huffing and puffing. She took a few moments to calm her breathing and took in the five story well-kept mansion before her. Her employer’s daughter had interviewed and hired Grace, so Grace already knew there was a library, stables and garden on the property as well. Grace was a little nervous and would have to rely on her training because she had never worked with someone who had dementia before. She gathered her bag and carton full of marigolds and ascended the staircase, leaving her bike in the driveway.

Grace knocked on the door and was greeted by a young woman wearing a crisp uniform and a sunny smile. Grace introduced herself and informed the young maid, she assumed, of her position. The chipper maid guided Grace through the halls to a small sitting room at the back of the house. As they entered the room the maid introduced Grace to the elderly woman who was resting in an armchair, by a window, facing the garden. The maid left Grace alone with the quiet woman who didn’t move or acknowledge her.

Grace moved closer and peeked out the same window her employer now starred into. Grace opened her mouth to ask a question when she heard and saw something quite astounding.

The elderly women breathed in deeply and turned, her eyes landing on the flowers that Grace held and instantaneously her foggy eyes cleared as she whispered to Grace, “You brought my marigolds”.

Grace didn’t say anything for a few seconds as her mind raced through the series of events that had taken place that morning, concerning these flowers that she had never seen or heard of until this day. “Yes”, Grace finally released. “The floweriest assured me that every garden needs marigolds so I thought we could plant them today.” Grace paused and looked out the window again, “in your lovely garden”, Grace concluded.

The tiny little lady surprised Grace by quickly moving to the door, “I know just the spot, I’ve been waiting for them, thank you”.

Grace smiled and responded with a light, “your welcome”, as she hurried to keep up.