Grandma's Funeral

Grandma died six days ago. She was eating grapes until one got stuck and no one was home. We found her in the kitchen after grocery shopping. I’ve always hated grapes. They were too small and too round. The skin would always get stuck to my teeth. Grandma loved them, especially the red ones.

Mom took over the planning. She set up the dates, ordered the casket, and bought the food and drinks for the wake. She was taking it surprisingly well, but she was good at these things. Planning. She was a Virgo after all, and everything had to be perfect. I didn’t want to ruin anything. I wasn’t allowed to. That's why I didn’t tell her I saw grandma in the bathroom.

She walked out of the stall with a small trail of toilet paper on her left loafer. She smiled when she saw me. She was wearing a long purple dress with embroidered flowers. Her eyes were dotted with a light shadow and her lips were red with lipstick.

“Hey honey,” she said in her sweet voice, “Why don’t you give that a minute?” She chuckled to herself and pointed to the stall. She waved a hand over her nose and raised her eyebrows.

“Grandma?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes?” she looked at me and concern washed over her face. “What is it dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” I said. The words fell out of my mouth before I could process what was happening. I remember watching the paramedics take her away, the sad sirens whooped down the street as my mom held me. I remember seeing her lifeless body on the tile with a broken bowl of grapes next to her.

Grandma shrugged and waddled to the sink. She turned on the water and splashed soap on her hands. “I guess I didn’t get the memo,” she said. “As you can see, I am very much alive.”

“How?” I asked.

Grandma shook her head and turned toward me. “One minute, I’m eating grapes and the next thing you know, I’m waking up in a coffin. Can you believe that?”

“I can’t actually,” I said. “Grandma, you were dead. The paramedics even did CPR on you and everything. How are you standing in front of me? Right now?”

Grandma shrugged again and dried her hands. “I’m not sure about that,” she said, “But I can tell you one thing, that casket sure is uncomfortable. You would think my final rest would be in luxury.”

“Mom picked it out,” I told her.

“Of course she did,” Grandma replied with a sigh, “That woman doesn’t know style if it bit her on the behind.” Grandma stopped and turned back to the wall length mirror. She looked herself over and ran a hand through her white hair. Her curls bounced back into place. She smirked. “So this is my funeral?” she asked.

I hesitated. “It’s supposed to be.” After a moment of silence, I asked, “Are you real?” Grandma looked at me in her reflection and smiled.

“As real as you are,” she said. She turned to me and opened her arms for a hug. I jumped into her arms and squeezed her. She smelt like cough drops and strawberry candy. I didn’t think I would miss the smell, but I let her scent linger in my nostrils. She was warm and I could feel her hugging me back. She was real.

“I miss you,” I told her.

“How can you miss me when I’m right here?” she asked with a chuckle. “Silly girl, I’m right here.” She held me tighter and after a while, I finally pulled away. My eyes were wet and my throat was dry. I hadn’t realized I was crying.

“So what do we do now?” I asked through a sob. “Do I tell mom?”

“Oh heavens no,” Grandma replied, “She would lose her mind. I wouldn’t want to worry her. You know how she is.”

I didn’t have any ideas. Grandma died. That’s what the paramedics told us. She spent the night in the morgue. She was staged in the funeral home and laid in the casket. I felt her cold skin. It didn’t make any sense to me. I fought the urge to run out of the bathroom. I silenced my scream and held my breath. Grandma was dead. I tried to remind myself. So who was this standing in front of me? My head started to hurt.

“Maybe I should go back?” Grandma suggested.

“Back where?” I asked her.

Grandma raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Back to the casket. I have a feeling I wasn’t supposed to leave.” She laughed as if she made a joke. I smiled, not at what she said, but because of her laugh. She laughed like a baby goat. “I am actually curious to see who showed up. Should I…play dead?” She laughed again. It was the only thing that made sense at the moment. Return Grandma to her casket and then sit through the wake. Pretend none of this happened and bury her tomorrow. That was the plan.

I poked my head out the door of the bathroom. Crystal, my cousin on my mom’s side, was drinking from the water fountain, waved to me and then left down the hall. The coast was clear. I signaled Grandma and she tipped toed after me. We got to the doors of the room where the wake was being held, but they were locked.

“How do we get in?” grandma asked.

“How did you get out?” I asked.

“I just…woke up and got out of bed,” Grandma said, “Like I do every morning.”

“There’s mom,” I said in a panic. I saw her walking down the hall with her head in a pamphlet. “Hurry, hide!” I gently pushed Grandma toward the curtains of the window and covered her with them. She tried to protest, but did what she was told and stood still in her hiding spot.

“Michelle,” my mom said, “There you are. They got her name wrong.”

“What?” I asked.

“Your grandmother. Her name is spelled wrong in this,” she said and waved the pamphlet in my face. “They forgot the ‘A’. This is a nightmare.” She sighed and held her head in her hands. I looked at the folded piece of paper and saw the name ‘Betrice Downing’ in bold on the front cover. There was a picture of Grandma smiling wide underneath.

“It’s okay, mom,” I said, trying my best to comfort her, “Grandma didn’t even like her name. She went by ‘Bee’ anyway.”

My mom was quiet for too long and after the awkward silence, she nodded. “Yeah, she did hate her name. She’d always say, ‘Beatrice was for an old woman, and I am not old.’” My mom smiled at the memory and wiped away a loose tear. “They are going to open the doors soon,” she said, “Are you ready?” I nodded and glanced at the feet sticking out from the curtain. They were grandma’s ugly brown shoes.

“Yes,” I said with a nod. “I’m just going to wait here.” My mom nodded and turned back down the hall. She had to get everything ready in time. She was always good at that.

“You got a bobby pin?” I turned to my grandma, who had freed herself from her hiding place. Confused, I nodded and reached behind my ear. I pulled a bobby pin out and my blonde hair fell loose. Grandma smiled and took the bobby pin from me. She bent down to the knob and worked the bobby pin into the keyhole. After a few seconds, we heard a click.

I blinked in disbelief. “You can pick a lock?”

“There’s some stuff you don’t know about me,” Grandma confessed with a grin, “Ah, the stories I could tell.” She opened the door and looked inside. The room was empty. There were rows of chairs in the middle of the room and toward the back against the wall, was an open casket. Empty.

“I wouldn’t want to be late to my own funeral,” Grandma giggled. She was enjoying herself. More than she has in the last few months at home. She was ordered to stay in bed after a fall and hated it. “I’m not dead yet,” she would say, “Let me enjoy myself.”

“I feel like a spy! Come on.” She grabbed my hand and led the way through the room. We stopped and stood before her casket.

“I’m awfully tired,” she said with a small yawn.

“Maybe you should rest,” I said. Grandma nodded and grabbed a chair. She placed it next to the casket and looked me over again.

“I’m so proud of you Michelle,” she said. “I don’t say it, but I am. You are such a clever and smart girl. You can do anything you set your mind to, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of that.” I felt my eyes water, but I remained silent. Grandma went on, “You have always been the thinker in the family. I bet you are going to do amazing things one day. Great things. I wish I could see them.” She yawned again. “Help me in, why don’t you?” She smiled at me and took my hand. I carefully led her onto the chair and into the casket.

“I don’t get why I don’t have a blanket,” she said, “It is supposed to be my final rest, right? And damn this dress.”

“Mom picked that out too,” I said.

“She knows I hate this dress.”

“But you look good.”

“Honey,” Grandma said, “I look good in anything.” She laid down and got comfortable. “Don’t forget how special you are Michelle.”

“I won’t,” I said. Grandma yawned again and closed her eyes.

“Wake me up when this is over. I could go for an ice cream.” I nodded at the request and placed my hand on hers. My fingers traced the wrinkles of her hand. We were best friends. I told her everything and she knew me better than I did. We had our secrets, our inside jokes. I wasn’t ready for her to leave. I didn’t want to say good-bye. I miss her already.

“Michelle,” I heard my mom behind me. “What are you doing?”

I took a deep breath in and turned to her with a sad smile. “Nothing,” I said.I wiped the tears from my face and looked back at Grandma. She had a smile on her face. “We should get ice cream after this.”