Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Mr. Garber is a retired Electronic Technician, married for fifty-one years with two children, four grandchildren, six great-grandchildren and another on the way. He has written various short stories, but never published. After urging from his family, he decided to write The Daisy, his first full length novel. He resides with his wife in Pekin, Illinois.

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THE DAISY

AuthorHouse

Contents

Acknowledgement.......................................viiForeword..............................................ixI The First Daisy.....................................1II Young Love.........................................8III Revelations.......................................21IV Early Awakenings...................................36V Indianapolis........................................61VI Footwork After The Dance...........................80VII Past Experiences..................................96VIII The Greatest Gift................................107IX Visiting Midland...................................122X Mackinac Island.....................................132XI New Friends........................................144XII Ominous Signs.....................................161XIII Shopping and the Grand Hotel.....................171XIV Random Thoughts...................................183XV Sailing............................................194XVI Special Evening...................................212XVII Painful Goodbyes.................................236XVIII An Urgent Call..................................253XIX The Last Daisy....................................266

Chapter One

LATE SEPTEMBER 2007

The late September morning air provided a hint of much colder weather that would soon find its way from the northern stretches of Canada. The sun never quite made it through the overcast to burn off the low hanging early fog, leaving patches of limited visibility. It was a dank, dismal day that previously had been nice fall weather for Midland, Michigan.

A sudden crisp breeze swept red and gold leaves across the gravel road, as the lead car of the procession slowly turned into the cemetery, followed closely by the hearse carrying his body.

The line slowly filled in around the site where a tent had been erected around the freshly opened grave, except for one vehicle off at a distant part of the cemetery occupied by a lone observer. A military contingent approached the rear of the hearse waiting for the funeral director to open the door to remove the casket and move it toward the receptacle. While family and friends gathered in and around the tent, several gentlemen helped position a wheelchair carrying the widow of the deceased near the head end of the receptacle as the casket was being placed.

The preacher proceeded with the simple ceremony, ending it with a conventional Christian prayer. Behind and off to the side of the tent, three volleys of seven shots rang out from an honor guard of veterans, while others lifted the flag over the casket and neatly folded it in the customary triangle, before presenting it to the widow and her daughter. Slowly, the family stood up and began to leave, some taking a single flower with them from the many baskets and sprays of flowers that had been placed around the grave site. Julie embraced her mother, holding her hand as the wheelchair was carefully maneuvered through the soft soil back to their car.

After the procession left the cemetery, the casket was lowered into the vault, followed by the lid and the soil, filling in the grave. The remaining funeral sprays and bouquets were arranged on top of the grave; the custodians gathered their tools and departed. All had left now, except for the lone observer in the vehicle that was parked some distance away.

The driver's door opened and a small figure emerged and slowly approached the grave site. If the tan jacket the figure was wearing failed to reveal the fact that the shape was feminine, the small hand carrying the single daisy certainly did not. Her hand was trembling as she lowered the daisy onto the grave amidst the other flowers that were there, followed by a tear that fell onto the ground beside them. She stood there for countless minutes, weeping quietly, and then brushed away her tears, turned and walked away.

ONE YEAR LATER, 2008

It was midmorning when Julie entered the cemetery, parked her car and approached the grave with a fresh bouquet of flowers for her dad's grave, and a small utility bag that contained a small grass trimmer, some glass cleaner and some paper towels. She noticed a single fresh daisy already on the grave, thought it strange and wondered how it came to be there, but quickly brushed the question aside and added it to her bouquet. She had intended to tidy up the grave a bit, but noticed that it appeared neatly trimmed and was in good shape. Satisfied that the cemetery custodians were taking good care of the gravesite, she sat a while quietly talking to her father in words that one wonders if anyone really hears. Finally she dabbed her eyes with a tissue, slowly rose and departed.

TWO YEARS LATER, 2009

It was the second anniversary of her father's passing, as Julie returned to the cemetery with a handful of flowers she had picked from her own garden. Again, she found a neatly trimmed and orderly grave with a single daisy carefully placed near the headstone, which had been freshly cleaned. Observing the other graves, she noticed that they had not recently been trimmed or weeded; the headstones had dried bird droppings on them and were obviously dirty. She was bewildered, as clearly someone had been taking care of her father's grave and leaving a single daisy. What she had dismissed last year without much thought, she now found wildly curious and wondered who was doing this; more importantly~~~why?

She resolved to come to the cemetery a day or two earlier next year; keep an eye on the gravesite from a distance, and perhaps then she could meet the unknown person who was pruning her father's grave. As she left the cemetery, questions swirled around inside her head. "Why just a single daisy?" she wondered.

THREE YEARS LATER, 2010

Julie nearly forgot the pledge she made to herself the year before, to visit the cemetery a few days before the anniversary of her father's death. She dropped what she was doing, packed a small lunch, grabbed a light jacket, and drove out to the cemetery.

After arriving and casually walking past the grave, it was clear to her no one had been there for quite some time. "Good, I'm not too late. Now all I have to do is find a place very inconspicuous to keep an eye on dad's grave", she mumbled to herself, as she moved her car around a curve where she could park and still see the grave clearly. She felt a rush as she thought of herself a detective on a stake out, smiling as she contemplated how exciting this could be.

Soon the sun started to set and no one had entered the cemetery. The rush she had felt earlier was now turning to doubt; perhaps she was too early, or maybe the secret visitor was not going to make an appearance anymore. As darkness started to creep in around her and the cool evening breeze sent a chill down her spine, she started the engine and made her way home.

The next morning the sun rose around 6:45 and Julie was already on her way to the cemetery. If that daisy was already there and she missed the event, she would scream so loudly she would be heard in town. Certainly no one comes out here in the dark of night to place a daisy and clean up a grave. She knew she could not do that, as it would be too spooky.

But again, it was evident that no one had been there. Settling in at her chosen spot some distance away to observe the grave, she soon began to feel frustration start edging in as she was rapidly running out of patience. This detective stuff was quickly...