Even Through Death

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A girl mourning the death of her grandmother. This story was written to comfort all of the people who have had the experience to see someone dear to you pass on.

Submitted: August 29, 2014

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Submitted: August 29, 2014

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~~Silence. The saddest song in the world, the crisp feeling, which fills your ears and darkens your mind. She was dead. My beautiful, sprightful, tough and big-hearted Grammy was dead. They said death took her silently, while she lay on her feather bed, nestled in a cocoon of sheets.  My parents said that she was now dancing and singing(Things she could never do), with the angels and was happy. But that thought did not make me happy. My Grammy had been a big part of my life growing up. She was the one who was there, when my parents were not home. She fed me, made me do my homework, scolded me when I did something wrong, gave me advice on problems in my life and overall spoiled me.  She always wore a grin on her face and loved/spoiled everything she came in contact with. But do not take her for some gentle old woman, no, no, she was strict. If you had done a wrong against her or somebody dear to her, you would except to lash out with cruel words at you. This spirt was in her, ever since she was little. She persevered to become a doctor, when the universities and colleges told her to go home, get married and have kids. No, she fought through that, and eventually became of the most respected neonatologist in her hospital.
As my parents and I walked into the church, the darkness sucked away any shred of happiness we held, and left us in a bubble of solemnness.  A coffin, lay in the center of the room, black as night and as glossy as a flat piece of glass. It’s cushioned bottom, carried the corpse of my beautiful grandmother. Her hair, still a dark brown, even in old age, sat short and curled around her head. Her eyelids were closed shut, and no makeup was on her face. Wrinkles pulled down her face, but not as many as mist people got at 92.  She was dressed in one of her favorite denim dresses, and her arms crossed over her chest. Her spirt was still contained in her smile, on her face. That smile. The one I saw every day. That smile had been there to comfort me, to make me smile, to make me laugh and had been there to scold me. We took our seats as the service began, I didn’t listen though. My mind and ears were filled the sound of my sniffles. One lined, spiked a memory, hidden in the ice caverns of my memories.
“As she joins her long deceased husband.”

I remember when I was about 5, and I was staying at Grammy’s house for the night. I had never asked about my missing grandfather, but I mustered enough courage to ask her She was sitting on the couch, quietly using a crochet hook to make a blanket. My blanket. Her face full of youth, even at 72, gave a small smile and asked
“Yes Marguerite?”
“Grammy, what happened to grandpa?”
She seemed shocked, but after a moment, the O her mouth made, turned into a warm smile. She gently lifted me, so I sat upon her lap, pushing her crochet hooks aside. She said
“Marguerite, your grandfather, well, is gone.”( I learned later that he died from a heart condition)
“Gone where?”
She gently took my hand, and pulled it up. I said
“He’s gone where Mandy went?”
Mandy had been our last dog at the time, and she had died a year earlier.
“Yes dear Marguerite, they are probably playing up there together,”
“Do you miss him?”
“Yes, I miss him. I love him.”
“How can you still love him, if he’s gone up?”
She gently took my hands, and smiled
“Marguerite, love reaches on beyond the limits of Up or down.  Love never changes, because love is love.”
She pulled me to her chest, and surrounded me in warm arms. I asked
“Grammy, will you go up to?”
“One day, but remember, my body may not be there, but my love will always lie in your heart.  I will never leave you.”
“Well I want you to stay here, Grammy. I don’t want you to leave!”
She gave out a light chuckle
“I won’t leave you for a long time.”

Oh, how the years had passed! It seems they were as such as butter, in a microwave, melting away before our eyes.  And before you knew it, they would come to an end. When I was only eighteen, tragically my father passed away, coincidently, to heart problems.  That day was the worst day of my life, I sat in bed crying, never wanting to move. My father, my life blood, the man in my life, gone. Grammy came in, and said
“Marguerite, it’s ok.”
“No it’s not Grammy!! Unless you bring him back.”
“Dear Marguerite, look at me.”
She put her fingers under my chin, and raised it so we looked eye to eye. She smiled, and wiped a tear from my cheek. She said
“Do you remember, when I told you, love lives through death? “
I nodded and she continued
“I know you are sad about your father death, but he loved you very much, more than you even knew it.  Even through death, love lives, his love is still with you dear. In here.”
She placed a hand over my heart.  She said
“You can cry my dear; I won’t stop you, but remember, his love is still here.”

Ha, if only she could be here now, to comfort me. If only. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and my mother signaled me to get up. It was time for the burial. We headed out, following a line of cars. Once we got to the burial site, they slowly laid the coffin in its final resting place. And then buried it. Most of the people were heading to the reception now; my parents turned around and started walking away. I on the other hand, kneeled down by the grave, and let the tears flow. I said
“Grammy, oh Grammy, I love you.”
I heard a voice echo in my head
“Even through death, I will love you. Just remember that Marguerite.”
I smiled, letting more tears down my cheeks. I whispered
“Yes, even though death.”
With that statement, I stood up and ran over to my parents, stumbling over the cobblestone path as I did.


© Copyright 2017 Maggie Williams. All rights reserved.

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