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Historical Fiction

It was late November when my Grand Mother passed away; It was our last Thanksgiving together, the last time we would cook a meal together and sit down to one as well. She was sitting with us at the table and slipped away quietly, still sitting. It was so sad I felt as if I had slipped away too. For weeks I could not bring myself to make a proper meal for anyone. It took me days just to clear the dishes from the table after she had passed. It happened without warning, one moment she was there, the next she was sleeping her forever sleep.

Days later I would find myself sitting by the creek crying and adding my tears to the water all around me. It was hard to move past, I don’t know if it was the time of year that it was or if it was more than that. I mean we did everything together so there is this loss of companionship that fills my head. How would I manage to do this without her, how life had suddenly become so hard I could not sum up an answer that made any sense to me.

I longed to hear her voice to smell her perfume. She always smelled like Lilly of the Valley, it was her favorite flower in life and in death I had planted it at her grave which was on the other side of our mountain by the cheek she was also found of. I spent a lot of time there since she had passed. I would not say it gave me comfort, because that is not the words I would use. I think it was more like wanting her to come and tell me to get up and get my chores done, but of course, that never happened.

 My Grand-Mother had raised me all my life since my parents had died when I was a very young baby, I cannot say that I even remember them at all, just the things she had told me. She had always told me that they loved me very much but everyone says that when someone dies, they tell you of how proud they would be, etc. I am never sure if it is truth or just some kindness people feel they must pay. In my case, they are nearly empty words having little place in my life. There were no gentle words that would make the pain I felt now pass from me.

I felt as if my world had ended; I guess I never left the fog of thoughts that clouded my head daily. Each day I managed to push through somehow, but deep down I would have given anything to have her with me again. I could not imagine Christmas without her and wished I had a piece of her to hold close to my heart. However, she came into the world with less than nothing and left the same way.

Sometimes I would go to her closet just to smell her clothes. I could not bring myself to pack them up and give them away. Maybe tomorrow, I could take care of it. I would tell myself. That is how it is for many other families as well and I know that, but when it is you well there are no words. 

A few days had passed when I started going through the Christmas stuff as it was time to put up our tree. One of our friends had bought us a store-bought tree. He had set it up in the stand for me. Now, this left me to sort the many boxes of Christmas stuff sitting in front of me.    

At least, for now, I managed to start going through the pile of boxes in front of me, I knew the rest of the family would be home soon and be ready to decorate the tree. I started sorting boxes and felt as though I was some criminal toughing things that were not really mine. I felt like that often as of late. Going through someone’s papers and personal items it is one of the hardest parts of someone’s passing in my thoughts. You feel as if they will walk in and scold you for your transgressions. Of course, they never do, but you wish they would.

So I continued on about my task just me and my box of tissues and the endless Christmas songs playing on the family radio. I would sort through things and cry, sort through a few more and cry more. It was a physically, spiritually draining thing that had to be done, so I was doing it.

Our ornaments were mostly homemade, each was so special, but they were not exclusively mine, nor did I really want them. But looking at them, I felt so empty and alone, in a way I could not really explain. I felt like I was just going through the motions really, box after box; I sorted them and set them in piles, till I reached the last box. It was the one that held the star for the tree.

I opened it up and saw on the very top an envelope taped to the star. It was addressed to, “My Grand Daughter with Love Grand Mother.” My eyes open wide; I wipe the tears from my eyes with my sleeve. What is this; I had never seen it before. I picked it up and looked around and spent a moment just looking at the words and traced each letter with my finger in disbelief and shock. 

I finally gained the strength to open it, my hands shaking; I pulled two papers from it. One was yellowed with age, the other seemed much newer. The first one was in her pen:

“My darling Grand Daughter, I love you more than words can say. Wipe the tears from your eyes; I am never far from you. I know I had nothing of material worth to leave you, but I leave you with a lifetime of love and my favorite recipe that my Grand Mother, your Great Grand Mother had given to me. It is for banana bread, which I know was your favorite as it was mine as well. I want you to remember all the times that I baked this with you and each time you bake it now know that I am there and that I love you. 

You are never alone…

Love always

Grand Mother

           It was the most beautiful moment of my life and on that day I wiped my tears away and went on with life, baking banana bread whenever I was sad and lonely, knowing that she was all ways there with me. It was the greatest gift I had ever been given and I love baking for others who are mourning themselves. Part of me is here forever even when I am long gone this will be a gift for someone else. That is what life is a gift and everything we share that is also a gift. Love is the greatest of all the gifts one can acquire. So please the next time you sit eating a piece of banana bread think of me warmly.

November 24, 2019 00:13

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