For Grandma

A fire crackled in the hearth as snow fell in flurries outside. Melanie sat in her easy chair nearby and rocked while listening to an old sermon tape. The sermon was on the Fatherhood of God, an attribute she struggled to find relatable. As she listened with her Bible open on her lap, the back door flew open to little Simon standing in the cold. He wore a blue stocking cap with a white ball on top and white tassels hanging from the ear flaps. After taking his damp coat and shoes off by the door, he came into the living room to warm himself up near the fireplace.

“Just a minute young man. You come give your Grandma a kiss!”

“Aw Grandma, do I have to?” he whined.

“If you don’t, then I'll wrestle you to the ground and kiss ya anyway,” she replied with a smirk.

“Okay,” Simon sighed. He resigned himself to getting a kiss he proclaimed he did not want but deep down enjoyed receiving. They both knew the truth yet played the unspoken game anyway.

“Thank you, Simon. I love you!”

“I love you too Grandma.”

Melanie sat and watched Simon by the fire, his shadow dancing on the back wall behind her. Michael should also be in soon to warm up a bit before going right back out into the cold again. This was the boys' modus operandi. It reminded her of wading through a frigid river to sit in a hot spring, only to go back into the river again. At times, she missed those younger years by said river. She would catch her limit of fish before either her husband or children had caught even one. Pouring salt in their wounds, she would then assign them the task of cleaning her haul for dinner. Her hard work was already done in catching them after all.

Simon let out a brief, barely audible sigh, yet she heard it all the same. He looked sad with his shoulders slouched as he gazed into the dancing flames of the fire. A twinge of empathy tugged at Melanie’s heart.

“Simon, is somethin' wrong my dear?”

“I’m okay Grandma,” he replied without turning to look her way.

“Sweetheart, I know somethin’s wrong. Your body language and that little sigh told me as much.”

“What’s body language?” said Simon, this time turning to face her. Melanie sat up and leaned towards him. 

“It’s the way your body presents itself depending on how you feel. A way people communicate without using words. That’s why I knew you weren't telling the truth. Although you said one thing, your body and that sigh told me another.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Now that I have your attention, are you going to tell me what’s been botherin' ya?”

“I don’t know.” said Simon with an even bigger sigh this time.

At this, Melanie rose out of her chair and paused the sermon. She then went over to Simon, sat down next to him, and also gazed deep into the burning embers. Sitting with someone in silence for a while was often all you could do and what folks needed most at times. It expressed concern and empathy without pressuring the other to talk until they were good and ready. When she put her arm around Simon to pull him closer, his lower lip began to quiver.

“Michael and me got in a fight. He said he doesn’t love me or like me anymore. Then he pushed me to the ground.” 

A single tear escaped over the lower lid of Simon's right eye as he struggled to remain strong. He understood Grandma to be a woman of strength and, as her little man, he did not want to let her down. Shame began to blossom within him and became lodged in his throat when he tried to swallow it back down.

“Now why would he say that?”

“Well, we were building a snowman and I got bored helping. When I came up the porch to come inside I got an idea. There was a lot of snow piled on the railing, so I thought it would be funny to dump it on him. You know, pretend it was a snowstorm.”

A sharp hiccup of a laugh escaped Melanie’s mouth as she imagined how the events played out. Simon forgot the humor in it all and felt rather terrible. The tears became harder to dam up and he began to sob after his confession. He did not like to cry, but he knew Grandma was a safe person for him. She loved him and would not make fun.

“You know, silly pranks like that run in the family.” Melanie said while Simon tried to pull himself together through sporadic shudders.

“They do?” asked Simon with some rekindled hope.

“Oh yes! I remember a time—oh my was your Grandpa in stitches!—when I left a peach pit in his under-drawers. His poor jock was bothering him half the work day before he investigated.” Melanie jiggled with laughter as tears welled up at the hilarious memory.

“Did Grandpa get mad like Michael?”

“I’m sure there was a moment of frustration once the initial confusion wore off. By the time he got home though we both had a good laugh about it.”

“What about Daddy, did he play pranks back then? He sure likes them now!”

“As a matter of fact, he did. Learned from watching me I’m afraid. Although, he had to learn the hard way the lesson between practical and cruel.”

“Why cruel? Was he mean?”

“I don’t think he meant it to be mean, but it sure came across that way at the time. You see, your Aunty had brought over a new boyfriend for dinner one day and your Papa didn’t like him at first. If you ask me, he didn't want to lose his sister's attention so he decided to play a prank on the boyfriend to scare him away.”

“Oh no! What did he do?”

Melanie held back a budding grin as she recalled that particular evening. The details were forever etched in her mind and she was quite fond of this memory. 

“Your dad took one of my sewing needles and stuck it in the seat of the poor boy’s chair while we was playing cards. I have never heard a grown man yelp the way he did!”

“Did it work?”

“Did what work?”

“Daddy’s prank. Did the boyfriend ever come back?”

“He sure did! Kevin was not a man to be easily deterred. He took it in stride and laughed it off. We all did—after I scolded your Papa of course.”

“Wait, do you mean Uncle Kevin?”

“The one and the same!”

By this point, Simon had forgotten all about his present sorrows. They sat there holding each other a bit longer in silence, a joyful calm settling over them. Simon found comfort in his grandma's warm and understanding embrace.

“Honey, Michael was upset and didn’t truly mean what he said. All the same though, it wasn’t right to react to you the way he did and say what he said. I will have a talk with him later.”

Simon felt better with the issue off his chest and some fresh perspective. He hoped Michael would not get into too much trouble with Grandma. The least Simon could do was lend a hand in finishing the snowman. He would offer up his scarf as a peace offering. There was also a nice-sized carrot he remembered seeing in the kitchen earlier.

“Thanks, Grandma. I love you.”

Simon gave her as big a squeeze as his little arms would allow before getting up to go back outside again. Melanie planted another kiss on the top of his head. She then watched him struggle to bundle himself up in wet clothes before scurrying away.

“I love you too young man!” she yelled after him.

It took Melanie more effort to get off the floor these days, but it was worth it. She clicked the sermon back on and returned to her rocking chair. The love of the Father now felt a little more real for her as she thought of how much she loved those boys.