Grandma's Safe Haven

"I'm just going to stay up for a while, I have a lot of work to do." I say, as I comb my fingers through my thinning hair, as a cluster of hair falls to the floor. I hang up the phone and silently walk down the hall and turn the corner. Siggy, my dog, is laying on the floor whimpering. "Oh siggy, you've always been by my side. Come, sit with me." As he tries to jump up and sit beside me on the love sofa, he barely makes it. Being 14 years old can really show a dogs age. His hair is shedding just about as much as mine does, these days.

As I settle in to my little space on the sofa, I find my ink pen and legal pad. The doctors are only giving me a few months left to live. My family is pushing me to write a will so that all my affairs are taken care of. My four children are grown, yet bicker back and forth about who is going to get the farm land and who is going to get what inheritance they feel they are obligated to.

Gina, the oldest, is quiet, widowed and a great mother. She is adamant that she need not a thing, that the love of a mother is just enough. Although throughout the years we have never been close, these past few years she has came around more often and is helpful.

Timothy, my second child, is one that will fight tooth and nail for his older sister, but despises the younger two. He has had a hard life, lives with lyme disease and only in his forties moved out of parents house, quietly got married and settled into a new home. He was the caretaker of my husband, Charles, who was a quiet man himself and passed away about 8 years ago, leaving me all alone on this big farm land. "Oh Charlie, I say, I wish I knew what to do."

My daughter Carrie, my third child, is a teacher but doesn't usually come around until she needs something. Old mama here doesn't have much to give, but I am willing to give what I can if I have it. She'd take everything if she could.

Bob, my youngest, is a handy man. He comes and helps me with the farm and makes sure to tell me just how much these acres of land mean to him. I'm sure he'd sell it to the town to make a big profit, but ol' ma here just lets what he says about the land go in one ear and out the other.

So I begin, with pen in hand, writing out my will. The will my youngest two keep hounding on me about, because they want to make sure they get more than the other two.

To Whom It May Concern:

This is my final wish. May my death be a sorrowful time. May you wish you had taken more time to get to sit and talk with me, and understand my heart, and love me as I did for you, my children. While you are wishing and hoping this land will remain in the family, I have made the decision to give all these acres to the humane society, as they are willing to open up a farm that lets dogs run freely to let the wind whip in their face. The town folk here will help with giving these dogs a lovely home on this land as they grow older in their years and no one else wants to take care of them. I promise you that this haven will be keep my memory alive on the sign to the entrance that reads, "Grandma's Safe Haven for all the dogs that have yet to a cross over to the rainbow bridge, may they see a little sunshine in their olden days." I do not second guess myself, for I know this is what I need to do. No more bickering with each other for what they want. I am doing this for me. As the cancer has taken most of my dignity away, I cherish my old pal Siggy, who sits next to me. I lick the envelope and walk over to the mailbox. This handwritten note will be carried out by my lawyer. He will make it official.

A month and a half later, the time had come. The soft snow landed softly on the ground as the family mourned for the loss of a mother, a grandmother and friend to many. The birds chirped, as my family sat there quietly at the graveside. After a few moments, they start walking out toward their cars. "One more thing, we are suppose to meet at the Courthouse on the square in room 108." As the rest of the family spread out to their cars, the four children each got into their own vehicles and drove the few miles to the courthouse. As they sat, awaiting their moment of truth, the lawyet sits down quietly. "As you know, your mother made a will out before her final passing. As I sit here and read this, please know that she did love each of you, and she believed this was the best for you." As he read the will, the quiet stillness in the room unfolds into sighs, hands clasps and a few side looks from one sibling to the next.

"How could she?!" Mary grumbles. "That land was suppose to be mine! How many times did I tell her that?" Bob angrily raises his fist to the sky. Gina sits back and winks at Timothy. Gina says, "She got what she wanted. All she wanted was to take care of someone else, to make life easier, even if it was for the dogs." A hush falls heavily in the air. "This was her wish, her last dying wish. May you take a lesson with you, to not take for granted the one that gave you life. They may not have all that you need, but she had plenty to share. When you become greedy, you want for things that doesn't matter to a woman dying from cancer. May you remember that, and continue life with an open heart." The lawyer closes the folder, leaving the siblings alone in the room. "Oh mama, we were so selfish, and yet even in your death, you are giving. Siggy really was a good friend and I know he'll run to you after he finishes his race at Grandma's Safe Haven." ....as they walked out of the room, they each felt a sign of relief. May her memory live on.