Live a Good Life

Jillian thought of death. She didn't want to think of death, but her heart was broken. She couldn't help that it consumed her thoughts. Jillian watched the snow fall briskly out of the dark cloudy sky this cold January day, not too many days past Christmas. She thought of her beloved Grandmother lying cold under the ground, and a lone tear fell onto the front of her black sweater. Jillian had cried so many tears, she was sure it was the last tear she would shed.

She wondered, why is it that most of us fear death? It's the unknown, the other side of what is known; the darkness, the coldness, where the light is gone forever. Jillian wished with all her heart and might that someone could tell her about the other side. She wondered what happened after death? Do we go on, or is that it? No, she couldn't accept that. There had to be more. More of something; more love, more touch, more warmth, more beauty - just more.

Jillian's thoughts turned to memories of the Grandmother, who held her hand as they walked through the flower garden, surrounded by beautiful rocks. Or, the Grandmother who brought the baby chickens into the house from the freezing cold. Jillian was sure she loved more because of her Grandmother. She was sure she loved nature, gardening, and all sorts of beautiful rocks because of what she shared with her Grandmother. 

She glanced at the shelf near the window and remembered her Grandmother giving her the desert roses she had collected on one of her trips to Arizona. They were beautiful crystal rocks resembling a wild white rose. Jillian walked over to the shelf and held one of the desert roses in her hand, and felt a little reassured that her Grandmother had also held it at one time.

Her Grandmother hadn't talked much about her youth, but Jillian knew it was a difficult childhood. Her Grandmother's father had died in the 1918 flu epidemic when she was only five. Jillian treasured the picture she had of her Grandmother when she was a little girl, sitting on her father's lap, her mother, and brothers standing next to them.

When her father died, her mother had to work and sent Jillian's Grandmother to live with her relatives and her two brothers to live with her deceased husbands' brothers. The boys grew up in happy homes, but her Grandmother was treated more like a housekeeper and cook from a young age. 

Jillian was given the diary her Grandmother's kept as a young girl. When she read it the first time, she couldn't stop the tears from falling, and every time Jillian read it, she cried. Her Grandmother wrote little snippets of phrases about how much she loved and missed her mother. She would wish for her mother to visit her, but Jillian didn't think she came very often.

Jillian only hoped the love of her husband, children and grandchildren helped make up for the loss of her parents at such a young age. She was a loving Grandmother and an exceptional cook. Jillian could still smell the homemade cinnamon rolls if she closed her eyes and thought of them. Then there were the pumpkin pies, homemade bread, fried chicken, and freshly cooked trout.

Her Grandmother wasn't rich or famous, but she was the best Grandmother she could ever dream of having. She missed her smile, her voice, her sweetness, but then her cell phone rang, and Jillian was pulled back into the cold January day.

Jillian answered without looking to see who was calling, "Hello." 

"Jillian, is that you? It's Grandma."

"Grandma?" She took the phone away from her ear to see where the call was coming from, and it said, "Grandma Hazel."

"Yes, honey, it's me. I wanted to tell you I'm doing good. I'm not in the cold ground. I don't want you to worry about me."

"But where are you then?" Jillian asked, her heart raced.

"I'm in a safe place with my parents and my grandparents and all those who died before me. I'm happy, but I know you are sad, and I wanted to let you know that I will always be with you, even when you can't see me."

Jillian reached over to pinch her arm. Had she fallen asleep, and was she dreaming? No, Jillian wasn't. She was really talking to her Grandmother.

"Remember the good times we had together, and know that I will be waiting for you when you die. I will be here to greet you."

"Grandma, I miss you so much, but I'm happy that you are with your parents now. I know how much you loved them," Jillian cried.

"Yes, Jillian, I am happy. You live a good life, and I will see you when it is your time. I love you. Bye-bye honey," and she was gone.

Jillian held the phone and sat still, replaying her Grandmother's words in her mind. She would see her again, and she wasn't in the cold ground. This day had turned into a good day, one that would stay with her until the end.

An unexpected phone call had changed her life. She planned to live a good life, and she didn't fear death anymore. She knew that her Grandmother and all her loved ones would be waiting for her when she left this world. She would tell this story to her children and grandchildren so they would know she would be waiting for them too.

Every time she stood in her garden or picked up a beautiful rock to admire Jillian would think of her Grandmother, and how she would see her again. 

Jillian wrote in her diary the story of her Grandmother's phone call so that when her family read it, they would know the truth. 

But in the end, Jillian couldn't resist calling her Granddaughter, and having one last conversation before she would see her again. At 89, her body was buried deep under the cold January ground, but Jillian wasn't there, she was with her Grandmother walking through the heavenly gardens. 

"Hello, Tara, It's Grandma, and I'm calling to tell you I'm fine. I'll be waiting for you when it's your time. Until then, live a good life."