When the leaf falls

From above I watch, I long to be holding her. Touching her. How it pains me to see her break down, crying in the bathroom and ripping up her food in the cafeteria. Next week marks a year since I passed away and my granddaughter Lizzie is in agony. I can’t help myself but blame myself for the sleepless nights and the awful bursts of anger. Everything piles onto of everything else and it’s suffocating me, and her.

Lizzie:

I gaze out the window at the eruption of vibrant colours that present themselves. Fall is my favourite; it always has been. Dressing up as vampires, going on long walks, tiring yourself out then treating yourself with hot chocolate and marshmallows. And the landscapes are something else the sunsets scatter the skies in crisp yellows and oranges, with clouds painted around and beautiful sunrises with a purple hue and a dusty pink haze. It’s truly spectacular.

It’s been raining for hours, my fingertip trails down the windowpane and crashes at the bottom where the raindrop meets with another. My neighbour waves at me from outside and I flash her an awkward smile back but I’m far more preoccupied with something in the distance. A small tree, no taller than 8 feet, is shedding its leaves for the winter. Crunched up brown foliage trickles down from the branches and lands in a pile of elegant red leaves from another tree. I watch, intrigued as the brown leaves are concealed by the red. As I look down at my stained hoodie and dirty sweatpants, a tear, just the raindrop earlier runs down my face. I didn’t want to feel this way. I felt better. I knew I did, when work started piling up again, I made myself better, I had to. But now, now I’ve got nothing to do the thought of Grandma weighs on my mind. Was I selfish for trying to forget? Did I want to forget? And it was in that exact moment that I decided, I was going to change. I was going to pull my life together. I didn’t want to forget Grandma; in fact, I want her to be the first thing on my mind. I want to remember her pushing me on my favourite orange swings at the park, I want to remember baking her signature chocolate chip cookies and her paintings that left the viewer visibly speechless.

Grandma:

She doesn’t even have to say anything, and I know every thought that’s running through her mind, she’s going to change. Like the leaf on the tree. Mother nature is calling to her and she’s going to listen. Smiling down at her, I watch as she gathers her stuff and hauls herself up the stairs to her room. A sharp pang penetrates my heart when she sits herself on her bed, rocking to and throw and water pools in her eyes. My body automatically mirrors her, and I feel a salty liquid roll down my cheek, knowing I can’t to anything. All I want is to give her a sign, feel the radiance of her smile, indulge myself in the warmth of her presence, but I can’t allow myself to dwell on what I can’t but. But I can watch and experience the joy I will get from seeing Lizzie live her life to the fullest, I can watch as she expresses that same radiant smile with her closest friends, and I can watch as others enjoy her beautiful warmth.

Lizzie:

Standing up, I wipe the tears from the face and begin digging around in my draws. There must be something nice in here. Pulling out a brown lace top and some beige pants I smile to myself, my old favourites. I do all the basics, brush teeth, comb hair and change outfits. A smile lights up on my face at how proud I am of myself.

The October breeze hits my face harshly, the air is crisp and dry. My body gravitates to the tree with the brown leaves, I place my hand at the hem of the roots. Glancing around, I don't see any brown leaves, yet the tree is barren and has been stripped of any life but puzzling enough, there is an abundance of vibrant red leaves.

Surely not, in that moment it strikes me that the red leaves are the brown ones but in a better light. There have fallen from their previous life that was doing them no good and fell. Here they are individual, colourful and spirited. They make you smile to yourself.

Today is the day I changed. For the better. Today is the day I became a better person. I will always remember Nan; I’ll always remember the late-night talks and the early morning walks but I’m moving on now. I’m starting fresh. The air makes my face blush and my nose stain red, I’m freezing cold, and I need another layer, my coat is shabby, and my hat has been chewed up by my dog but I’m happy. For the first time in God knows how long I’m happy. When September 1st hits and the first leaf falls, push yourself, help yourself for you. I love you, nan.

Grandma:

I love you too Lizzie. I remember when you were a baby, when I saw you for the first time, a soothing smile plastered across your face, dressed in a precious outfit. I saw you then, I saw you when you painted your first art piece and I most definitely saw you when we watched the sunset other on the hill. And I see you now, gawking at the various majestic colours of October, I see you admiring the carefully carved pumpkins outside Mr and Mrs Torres’ house, I see you running your hands down the painted fence of the pumpkin patch. And now, I see that you’re happy. And if you’re happy then I’m happy. I’ll enjoy spending eternity with you, even if you don’t know it.