To the Grave

To the Grave

‘It won’t be long now’ the nurse said, straightening the crisp white sheet.

Poor Gran, she had been sick for as long as I could remember. I loved Gran, she could be a bit cranky and a bit tyrannical, but there was a loving, caring side to her which she reserved entirely for her grandkids.

Grandad hovered by her bedside, pacing back and forth. On the few occasions he had attempted to try and hold Gran’s hand she had flinched it away.

The family joke had always been that Gran acted like she hated Grandad but deep down she really loved him.

It must have been pretty deep down, in my thirty years I had never so much as seen a loving glance or heard a loving word exchanged between them.

I felt sorry for grandad he looked so worried and sad as he continued his pacing. He was about to lose his wife of 60 years and it was tearing him apart.

Gran and Grandad had produced six children, three of each.

My mum was the oldest and had taken on most of the care of Gran over the years as her health had deteriorated. I had become her second in charge as I had no kids of my own, lately I found myself helping out a lot especially so in past twelve months.

Gran and I had always had a close friendship. I could tell her anything. She never judged and always had some good advice. Especially in the affairs of the heart. Which was surprising for someone who had limited experience in this area.

Suddenly Gran’s eyes flew open, she flung herself up into a sitting position, staring into my eyes.

‘Carly, Carly ‘

‘I’m here Gran’ I held her hand tightly.

‘Make him leave, please, Carly, oh please!’

‘Who, Gran?’ I had no idea who she meant, there was only me, Mum and Grandad in the room. Was there some apparition. I had heard that sometimes the dying could see things we couldn’t. I looked around the room, not really knowing what I expected to see. Surely she didn’t mean Grandad. Why would she want him to leave the room?

Mum and Gran had always had a strained relationship. Gran’s apparent dislike of her husband had trickled down to include her children. Hence the reason we were the only ones here sitting by her bedside.

‘Come on Dad let’s go get some coffee, Carly will stay with Mum, if anything changes, she will call us’

My mum led Grandad out. Both looking crestfallen and confused by Gran’s erratic behaviour and Mum trying to protect Grandads feelings as she so often did, it was all becoming too much for them both.

Taking Grans hand, I gently laid her back down.

‘What’s all this Gran, who do you want to leave, surely not Grandad’

‘Carly, oh Carly I need to tell you something, but I can’t, but I need to’

Gran was clearly distressed.

‘Calm down Gran whatever it is can wait until you feel better’

‘No’ Gran roared flinging herself into a sitting position again. Frankly I was amazed she had the strength.

‘Ok Gran tell me, it’s ok, just tell me whatever it is that’s worrying you’

I laid her back against the pillows. Soft peaceful music played in the background. Palliative care was absolutely beautiful, not only just for the dying but also for their families. A fragrance in the room, vanilla, I think. Soft pastille coloured bedspread. A comfortable pull-out sofa for family to stay with their loved ones until the end. They provided complete privacy twenty-four hours a day. They only ever intruded, and it was minimal to provide personal care for the patient. Gran spoke again it was barely a whisper

‘Carly, I have to tell you, before I die, I just can’t take this to the grave, someone has to know, it’s only fair’

‘Ok Gran you can tell me’ I didn’t believe my Gran could have anything life changing to share with me on her death bed, but oh boy! was I wrong.

‘He killed him’ she tried to pull herself up, but weakness was prevailing.

‘Who killed who Gran’

‘Oscar, he killed Oscar’

‘Who Gran, who killed Oscar and who is Oscar’

Was Oscar a cat, Gran loved cats. If Oscar was one of her cats, I had never heard his name before.

A peacefulness seemed to pass over Gran. She seemed more alert. She took my hand and looked at me, her lovely blue eyes now glazing over as the memories flooded over her.

‘Carly, it was in 1964, my love Oscar was working in the mines. He and your Grandad were best friends. They were both trying for my affections, but my love was for Oscar and only Oscar. There was a mine collapse, and Oscar was killed’ she paused breathless. A tear ran from her eyes.

‘I’m so sorry Gran, what a terrible accident’

‘No, not an accident, that’s what they said, but I know it wasn’t’

She collapsed back onto the pillows.

‘Gran how do you know it wasn’t an accident’

‘He told me, he laughed about it, oh my poor Oscar ‘Gran began to cough, and her breathing was laboured.

‘Gran who, who killed Oscar’ I begged her.

‘The proof is in my album, in my album ‘She was becoming really weak now.

‘Oh, Gran who killed Oscar, please tell me’

Grans breath came in gasps now. She was whispering something. I put my ear as close as I could to her mouth.

‘Keith, Keith killed Oscar’

Oh my god! what did this mean, my Grandad is Keith, no way could my Grandad kill anyone.

Gran let out a long roaring breath and it was over. What did this mean?

Gran was gone leaving me with a secret that could destroy our entire family. Do I leave it alone and file it under the ravings of a dying woman or do I investigate.

The End