I used the picture the Old Man (Arthur), the Dead Rose (that he brushes off the bench), and the Empty Bench (because it's empty where of where Molly should be sitting). You have to look closely, but three of them.
Ginny Weasley lingered behind and watched as her father walked, bent with age, towards the bench, the one that sat in the backyard, the one that he loved so much. It wasn't seeing her once so vibrant father moving so slowly, and it wasn't the way his once red hair was now completely gone that made Ginny cross her arms and frown deeply. It was the fact that he was talking to himself. No, not to himself...to Molly.
“It's a beautiful day, isn't it, darlin'?” he mumbled endearingly, his hand held beside him as though he cupped someone else's hands. Her father lowered himself onto the bench, the bench her mum and dad had so often sat at. Arthur stared at the empty place beside him, absently brushing aside the now-dead rose that he had laid there upon his wife's death. “You look beautiful today, Mollywobbles.” He paused, then chuckled. “Now, now, Molly, you are beautiful. Don't go thinking any different.”
Ginny felt hot tears burn her eyes, and she continued to stare at him, the old man sitting alone on a bench. It hadn't been easy for her father since her mother had passed away three months ago. At first, he'd been heartbroken, but had held together for his family. He'd occasionally mumble something like: “Better to have loved and lost...” He had always ended in tears. Yet, her father had been strong...at first.
Then he'd begun talking to Molly, as though her mother was still there. Ginny's brothers had been unsure what to do, but had seemed to decide that it was best to ignore it. It would go away, but it didn't. Still, they didn't act upon it, and Ginny did the same, while keeping close eye on him. Yet, day after day, she grew more angry, more hurt, because she feared that the day she'd lost her mother, she'd lost her father too.
“Oh, Molly,” Arthur whispered. “I love you.”
No longer content to stay silent, Ginny hurried over and fell to her knees in front of him. “Dad, Mum's dead,” she said abruptly. “She's gone. She isn't here.”
Arthur turned to look at her, and for the time in so long, it seemed like he actually saw her. “I know she's dead, love.” He caressed Ginny's cheek. “But she's not gone. She's here.” Taking her hand, he spread Ginny's fingers over his chest so she could feel his heart beating. “As long as she is, she'll never be gone.”
He turned his gaze back to the empty seat beside him where, no matter how much Ginny wished otherwise, her mother was not sitting.
“Isn't that right, Molly? 'Better to have loved and lost...' But you're not lost. You'll be with me...always.”
Feeling her heart rip in two, Ginny let her head fall into her father's lap and sobbed.
Arthur stroked her hair lovingly, smiling down upon her. “Look at her, Molly. Isn't our little girl so beautiful...”