My name is Amanda Ashlyn Thomas, and I have the uttermost guilt in my life. I always assumed that my life would be perfect with no problems or guilt. However, I realized this is not the case. I caused the death of my own grandmother, However, to understand my story, we must go back two years. It was July 9th, 2019.
The dreary rain accompanied my sorrow. Every single one of my tears fell down, making streaks in my cheeks. Mom had left the church sanctuary to go to the lobby with Andrew. I only wish I had spent more time with Grandma Josephine. I ignored her. She asked me to bake every day after school, but the answer I always gave was no. I would sit in my room FaceTiming my friends or practicing for the play. She was a blur in my life, a haze in the background.
She never treated me harshly. After my mom's younger sister, Aunt Clara, passed away, Mother invited Grandma Josephine to live with us. I remember resenting her for taking over my art room. But no matter what I did, she was always there for me. The worst was the burden I carried. One day, as I was preparing myself dinner, her faint voice could be heard. "Amanda, please come for a minute." I scoffed. Then she called me again.
I remember that my reply was: "I am already busy right now! Can you not wait a minute?" After I finished my sandwich, I walked to the sink and started to wash my plates. That's when I heard a loud thud.
I ran to my grandma's room, not knowing what had happened, but i did not think it was anything bad. Perhaps her sewing machine fell of the table. I saw a much more tragic sight. She had fallen to the ground, from what I did not know, but I knew she was unconscious. I called for my mother. I did not care for my grandma at all, but I know she did.
Josephine's body was on the ground. Mom ran in and knelt down, screaming. "MOTHER!" Tears began to trail down her cheeks, as she urged me to call an ambulance. I did as she urged. The sadness i could sense from my mother was immeasurable. Something bad had happened, I could tell.
It felt like hours until they arrived. Mom instructed me to stay with Andrew until Dad came home. She went to the hospital with Grandma Josephine. I was worried about what would happen next.
My younger brother, who could barely even talk, did not comprehend what was happening. He giggled in his high chair as I fed him.
Dad came home perhaps an hour after the event happened. I explained the tragedy that had happened while he was at work. He sat with me on the couch, trying to be a comfort. It was not very useful.
It was not until after Andrew had gone to bed that Mom arrived home. Dad and I ran to the front door, wanting to know what happened to her.
Mom's eyes were red from crying, and she seemed very weak and tired. She handed us a small piece of paper.
A Death Certificate.
Dad took in a deep breath. Mother fell to the ground and sobbed.
A voice rang into my head, repeating the same two words. "your fault... your fault..." I felt absolutely horrible. Memories flooded into my head of Grandma Josephine. She always just wanted five minutes with me.
I would never even spend one.
All of us had a sleepless night. The next morning, we began to collect somethings that Grandma had valued. I opened the first drawer of her bedside table. There was not much in it, only her perfumes and wedding ring, and a couple of coins as well.
I took the box of the ring out and held it open. the ring sat there, the diamond shining in all its beauty. I slid the ring on my finger and tried to imagined her young. She never took photographs of herself. It was impossible. As i placed the box back in the drawer, something caught my eye. It was a piece of paper, folded up, and with my name on it. I stuffed it into my pocket, not wanting to think about her death.
Here I am now, on the wooden pew, a month after her death. Before the funeral, I put the note into a small purse I brought with me. I was ready to read it.
My beautiful Amanda,
I love you so much. We don't spend a lot of time together, and all I wish is that we can do so before I leave you. My life would be brighter if I had that.
This is something your mother has hidden from you, but I think you should know about it. I have been dealing with strokes for the last six months. I know that I will be leaving soon, but please never forget how much I love you.
I love you,
Your Grandma Josephine
The note left me frozen as I read it. In the past, I didn't realize how incompetent I was. I... The reason I treated her harshly was a mystery to me. Suddenly, I hated the past seven years. My eyes welled up with tears. My mother came to me and placed her arm around me.
It's strange how you don't appreciate something until its gone, isn't it?"
My solemn nod indicated my agreement.
"The clouds have broken," her mother said. My mother liked it when the rain stopped and the sun came out."
I choked down a sob, not wanting to feel my guilt. Mom and I walked into the abandoned lobby. I looked out the glass doors. The sun began to shine. I pushed them open and went out into the evening wind. I closed my eyes as I felt the warm rays of her love fall on my face.
I love you, Grandma Josephine.
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1 comment
This is quite a brave story to tell, and it feels very real. There are some issues with tense and a few grammatical misses but those are easy to fix. My big wish for this story is to experience the actual process the main character goes through. We see her guilt and regret, we see the death of her grandmother, but there's no real evolution of her emotional state. Emotions are amazing tools but they need to move so the reader can travel somewhere with the writer. I found the ending quite moving and am looking forward to reading more ...
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