My dear, Sweet, Grandma

My dear, sweet Grandma,

                    Do you remember those cookies you made all those years ago? The oatmeal ones? I do. Those were my favorite. Everytime I sink my teeth into those fresh, soft, and warm cookies, I can feel my mouth feel like I'm drowning my tongue in my own saliva. I never liked oatmeal cookies. Only yours. Your cookies were special.

 For many years, I tried to recreate them, but I never could get the recipe. I thought about going to your old house and trying to see if that little, old wooden box still contains all of these recipes that would feel like a taste of heaven. Of all people, you should know what heaven tastes like. After all, you were pinned against the floor by a flaming wooden beam across your chest about two weeks ago.            

     I wanted to know how the house fire started. Was it grandpa?

 The stories you have told me about him were horrendous. Like when you first got married to him, he was an alcoholic. He'd come home every night either stumbling around like a mental earthquake was happening in his brain, or coming home pissed at you for nothing. I do remember walking to your house after school ended, I just remember the dark red tint splattered on the wall, not enough to cover the wall, but as big as your homemade oatmeal cookie.  i thought that i would forget this event, sadly that's not the end. Grandpa came home with another woman, prettier, younger, and more "playful" towards him. I asked you who that was, but you never did answer me. I could only assume who exactly that was and I'm sorry that you had to go through that. You don't deserve a man that treats you like dirt.

 Grandma, you are a wonderful woman, you should've left him. He's taking advantage of you, why can't you see that? Just, why? Why didn't run away from his grasp, why didn't you say something to the police? Why didn't they tell me? You could have lived with me. Grandma, I know you're a kind woman, you just can't hurt yourself to make someone happier, that man is a messed up man. God only knows what he went through. There is no fixing him. I wish you lived longer to understand that.

 I do remember the recipe of your cookies.

3/4 cup of flour

1/2 cup of brown sugar

1 cup of sugar

1 tsp of vanilla extract

1 tbs of baking powder

1 stick of butter (softened)

1 3/4 cups of quick oats

1 cup of raisins

2 eggs

1/4 cup of milk

1/4 cup of oil

• preheat oven to 365 degrees Fahrenheit
• place batter on a cookie sheet, evenly spread out so they can bake
• put in oven for 10 minutes
• poke a fork or toothpick through it, only one of them, if its too soft, add 2 more minutes.
• take out of oven, when done, and let it cool off for 3 minutes

That's your recipe, grandma.

How'd I get this...? I taste each and every ingredient everytime i take a bite.

To make sure it was accurate, I tested it myself to be sure that I did every step correctly. My instincts were correct. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, It reminded me of you.

You were my best friend, I don't know why you had to go. I want you to see my future kids, I want you to see what my future will look like. I just want you here.

 The day I found out you were gone. I never believed it. It wasn't true, It's not right. Two weeks to figure out that it was true. I had to be sure it was true.

 I just remember walking into your old house. For what used to be a small cottage on a fair share of land, a backyard large enough to fit an airport, is a pile of ash, rubble, and sadness. I walked around the plot to see if I could find something. Hoping and praying that you escaped and everyone i know  and loved have conned me. The moment i started to think of the fantasy that i wanted to live in, I looked down at the reality that I very much so wanted to get out of. I blackened bones crushed against the tile. A giant beam lies across it, I tried to push it off to make sure who it was, I wanted to see the clothes of this body. It was so heavy, it felt like i was attempting to carry a cruise ship. That didn't stop my determination. I kept trying, and trying, and trying but all was lost, all of my hope was gone. I looked down, then, I saw something. A bullet wound directly on her temple, with a rifle in her hand. It made me more sad, knowing that she did that. You hid it so well. Your smile covered the pain in your smile, and the smell of those oatmeal cookies just was a distraction to make sure I didn't suspect that you weren't ok. I wish you said something. I'm not a kid anymore, Can't you see? I'm an adult. I'm not that ignorant child anymore.

 My dear, Sweet Grandma, I miss you, and I love you. Grandma, your life shouldn't have been taken away by your own hands. In anyone's hands really. You really should have told someone. I could help. I could try at least. I knew that that red stain on that wall was blood, I knew it was your's. How? I saw your wrist, full of scars. Covered in scabs and blood. I never bothered to ask because I was just a stupid child. Those oatmeal cookies are all that I cared about. When I should've cared about the one who's making them. 

  This letter is for you, grandma. I know you're already dead, but I want to let you know, because of you, you changed my life for the better. I’m not going to care for someone for their baked goods, no matter how mouth watering they may be. From now on, I’ll be sure to find the signs that could make someone’s life a living hell, I'm not sure how, but I will. Thanks grandma. 

    Love, Melina J.