Marianne
Marianne was a much beloved wife, grandmother, and great-grandmother. So it says on the little aluminium plaque on a park bench in the Linear Park. There is no doubt she was much loved for there have been flowers under the bench every time I have ridden past for several years. Fresh flowers, changed as often as needed. Always there.
The plaque once disappeared, but only for a day or two. Back on the park bench, it now carries a tiny engraved cat. We concluded Marianne’s beloved cat had also died.
We went interstate for a month’s holidays. Riding to work on the first day back I saw there were no flowers. A riding companion told me they had stopped not long after we left. The man she had occasionally seen bringing the flowers seemed very old, she said. We wondered if he had gone into care, or had died.
I was surprised at my distress over the loss of the flowers. They were an icon of love in a hard world. I wondered about bringing my own; perhaps I could cut bottle brush or banskia out of the thickets in the creek. Or sprays of gum flowers.
But on my last trip in to the city, the flowers were back. Perhaps Marianne’s husband has also been away on holiday.
Andrea Prior (July 2026)
Would you like to comment?
I have turned off the feedback module due to constant spamming. However, if you would like to comment, or discuss a post, you are welcome to email me using the link at the bottom of this page, and I may include your comments at the bottom of this article.