Welcome Back Part 2

“Good bye,” grandmother tip-toed on a feet to press a light kiss on my cheek.

“Good bye,” I reciprocated the kiss on hers. “I don’t like that word.”

“Have you ever thought that some words have double-meanings? Like gay, date, engaged, net, foil.”

I never thought it in that way. “Your point being?”

Grandmother wrapped her fragile hands around mine, eyeing me with her stern emerald eyes. “You and Amy will be alone in this brutal, wonderful world.”

“Grandmother,” I looked down at the clean cement ground. “I left Amy in jail.”

Surprisingly, grandmother went to into fits of laughter as if it was a joke.

“Why aren’t you angry or going into lecture mode?,” I asked.

Whether she is red, you are blue or you are blue, she is red, you two come from the same peas in the pod. You two have the same clothing size, shoe size, and weight, so I do not want to hear any complaints about who is prettier!

Grandmom, she takes my toys and never puts them back in my toy chest.

Go to her and demand it from her.

She ignores me.

Work things out with her! She is your sister!

That was one of the many lectures given by my grandmother.

“Anna, Anna,” grandmother lessen in laughter. “Let her sit there for a week to think about her actions.”

“She never does that.”

We knowingly looked at each other and sighed.

“When I was raising the two of you, you were the angel and Amy was the migraine.”

“Grandmom, Dr. Shaw gave us the permission to say the word ,” I said.

Dr. Shaw, our eighty-one years old family practitioner, asked Amy a series of questions and proceeded to take grandmother and I into his claustrophobic office.

“Mrs. Daniels, Ms. Daniels,” Dr. Shaw removed his spectacles putting on the pile of patients’ charts. “I am going to give you my professional and honest opinion about Amy granting I am not an aficionado.”

“That she is the child from hell,” grandmother said. “Every baby sitter said that after round one.”

The doctor didn’t laugh at the statement. “She is a pathological liar with no regard for consideration and lacks understanding in social barriers based on my assessment and the sessions.”

“A psychopath then? I knew it!”

“It isn’t my field to say that Amy is that,” Dr. Shaw said, grabbing a Rx pad and scribbled something on it. “You have my permission to call her that.”

“Satan.” The word was circled.

A handful of therapists later confirmed Dr. Shaw’s statement.

“Thankfully, Amy didn’t commit a homicide or, hell, murder me in my sleep,” grandmother, pulling me from that memory. “I pray to the Almighty everyday for my blessings.”  

“I pray on that every morning and night,” I took in her palm.

“God heard your prayer child. But I think He is wanting me to come to His kingdom.”

“The doctor said you are progressing in the tests.”

“I am getting better by one-percent, sweetie.”

“A percent is greater than a half-percent.”

“Sweetie, you have to let it go…by letting me go,” grandmother said, slipping her palm out my grasp and stepping back.

 As I was to about to step forward, she held up her hand. “Stay where you are.”

I followed the order, but my feet wanted to step to where she was. “Grandmom.”

“Sweetie, I have to go,” grandmother started walking to the glowing building. “People are waiting for me on the other side.”

“Grandmother, no! Stay!”

“When the wind blows, the flowers bloom, the leaves fall…you know that I am there.”

“I can’t see you either way,” the tears dropped on the pavement. “I can’t touch or hug you.”

“Not seeing or being invisible isn’t a sign that we aren’t ever able to meet again rather it is the opposite. Many others and I have become angels to oversee our love ones. Anna, I will be your invisible angel. Whenever you are either lost or questioning something, think of roses and me,” grandmother grinned and grabbed the entrance door handle. “Good bye Anna. We will meet again tomorrow, the day after tomorrow…it isn’t over yet.”

I woke up with beads of sweat which now soaked the pillow. Lying on the end of the bed, I grabbed the black satin robe and exited out to the balcony.

On the last day with my grandmother, she and I spend the day walking around the hospital garden, eating mediocre chicken pot pie, and playing UNO.

“Grandmother, I will be coming back.” We stood in the entrance door.

“Same time and date.”

“Yes and this time, I will bring lunch,” I said. The hospital cafeteria food was lacking seasoning and spices which was the exactly opposite of the saltiness of high school cafeteria food. 

“I will wait for our next meet!” grandmother smiled but it didn’t reached her eyes.

“Grandmother, are you sure that you don’t want me to stay with you? I can talked to my boss about the schedule and she’ll understand that it is a family emergency.”

“No, no. You focus on your job and not to make your boss mad,” grandmother fixed my denim jacket. “You have been eyeing that promotion for a while and I want you to get that.”

“If you say so,” I hugged my grandmother again. “I will see you in a week and call, text, or FaceTime anytime, promise?”

“I promise.”

Those were the last two words from her.

I leaned on the balcony and stared at the moon.

“Grandmom, I didn’t know that day was your last on this planet? Did you knew already? Why you didn’t tell me? I could’ve stay the night and be by your side. I feel like I missed a train and can’t do anything about it.”

The wind blew, not hard, rather a calming breeze as if it was comforting me.

I will be your invisible angel. 

“Grandmother, are you here?” I looked around, knowing I was the lone person standing on the balcony.

The breeze blew again.

“If you are here at all,” I looked down at the rose bushes from below. “Hello grandmom.”