The Heart Shaped Wind Chime on The Pomegranate Tree

There’s a heart shaped wind chime on the pomegranate tree in my grandparents backyard. I don’t know how long it’s been there. For as long as I can remember the slow back and forth rings soundtracked the laughter of my siblings and grandparents as we played games or splashed around in the inflatable pool and slip ‘n slide. 

My grandmother’s voice and laughter sort of sticks in my head like the wind chimes. She used to pick me up from school in my early elementary years and she would recall the big smile I would display at the sight of her car. The smile was an unconscious and genuine one; I was truly so happy that I would get to spend the next few hours at my grandma’s house. 

At her house we would chat about various things, primarily Disneyland or race cars. I would sit on the floor of the living room at the foot of her ottoman, and eventually our conversations would turn into a card game of Go Fish or War. Occasionally, she would spoil me and take me to Target where we would peruse the Hot Wheel aisle and eventually settle on some sort of Nascar. 

Sometimes we painted. My grandmother was a gifted watercolor artist and I often marveled at the way she was able to gracefully control the movement of the paint to craft a beautiful landscape. She always encouraged me to keep painting and told me how gifted I was at watercolors. I disagreed but she insisted. 

Although the things we did would’ve been appealing to any 6-year-old, I think my smile was so big because she was one of my first best friends I ever had. In a time when I struggled to make friends, my grandma was one of the few people that I found comfort in outside of my immediate family. She taught me what it meant to truly enjoy the company of someone else. 

When I was eight my family and I moved away, and I saw her cry for the first time. She was always such a light for me in the early years of my life and it was difficult to see her wrought by these emotions. I hugged her goodbye in the driveway and saw the house disappear in the distance; no more afternoon card games, no more watercolors, no more sleepovers on the weekends and no more windchimes. 

As I grew older, our relationship changed. We’d talk frequently over skype. I never took much liking to the art lessons I took, so she would call and give me lessons on watercolor. We would visit our grandparents once a year and it would feel like old times for a little bit. 

I moved back to San Diego for college and once again found myself close to my grandparents. During my New Student Orientation my family and I had time in between events to do whatever we wanted, so we went to my grandparents. After a nap on their couch, I went outside to sit on the backyard patio with my grandma. As I faced this new phase of life I silently sat and listened to the wind chime and my grandma’s voice in their backyard. Amid all this change, the bell-like sound had stayed constant.

I saw my grandma on holidays and still came over for the occasional afternoon visit. Her health started to decline throughout my college career and it was getting harder for her to do things with us. I sat with her in the hospital and talked to her about school and what I was learning in church. She was in a lot of pain but she still sat and talked to me about my life. She still cared. Before I left the hospital, she again recalled the big smile I would have on my face when she used to pick me up from school. 

She passed away earlier this January. I went to visit my grandpa afterward and saw her chair in the living room, now empty. Her snacks and chocolates were still there. There was every sign of her being there, but she was gone. I walked outside to the backyard and closed the door behind me. I listened to the wind chime and walked up to the pomegranate tree. It was cold and the pomegranate tree was leafless and dry. I touched the rusted heart on the wind chime and it made its slow back and forth bell sound. Then I put my hand on the tree and felt its knots and peeling bark. As my hand traced the tree trunk the wind chime suddenly caught a gust of wind and the slow ring turned to a fast paced chorus of bells. The heart swayed back and forth and eventually sat still again, then returned to its normal sound after I removed my hand. I touched the tree again and said goodbye to her. Then, I walked back to the house.