My inspiration for this story. Picture by your one and only. The arthritic and stubby branches of the peach tree in the garden was our harbinger of winter. The lonesome tree would look deranged and we'd know to unpack our winter clothes and start the tea regime in the morning. For the rest of us in the family, the tree being there didn't make any difference to our lives. But for my grandmother, it was a different story. It was her only answer to solitude. It was the whisper of a long lost love for her. Ever since my grandfather died of heart attack , it was like a part of my grandmother died with him. She was no longer the cheerful person she used to be. She remained unhinged by the things that were going on around her. It was like a piece of her had drained from her body. My father said that it might be because of the sudden and untimely demise of my grandfather, but for none of us knew for sure. And we were too taken aback by her strange activities that we never a