Memories Published by Janell Loveland Copyright 2011 Janell Loveland Smashwords Edition This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. ~~~ Palms down, the tall grass tickles my finger tips as I feel dirt and plants squish beneath my bare feet. I don’t know how I got here, nor do I recognize my surroundings but as I look up at the bright sky and breathe deep, a calm comes over me and I’m not afraid. I squint my eyes to see what’s around me, my focus settling far off in the distance on a white house with a red roof. I feel I need to go there, like I will find what I have been looking for but I’m not sure I know what exactly that is. I allow my feet to carry me towards the house. I’m surrounded by two feet tall grass and as I get closer beautiful blues, yellows, reds and purples begin mixing with the green grasses, stems and leaves as the foliage descends lower to the earth. I’m so at ease here, I feel like lying down in the flowers, closing my eyes and losing myself in the serenity of this place, to forget all my worries and just remain right here. That thought causes me to pause. I know I have responsibilities and worries but for some reason, I can’t remember anything. Not why I’m here, I can’t even remember my name. I should panic, I know I should but I just feel so… safe. Like I’m right where I should be. I approach what I assume is the front of the house but there is no door. There are several windows on the stark white home but no address or mail box. It looks to be newly built and I wonder if anyone actually lives here. I halt, unsure, but I can't ignore that voice in my head telling me I’ve come to the right place. I walk around to the back of the house and stop dead in my tracks. There is a woman kneeling in front of what looks to be a small garden. She doesn’t seem to notice me and I try not to stare but there is something about her that has me transfixed. She has short curly hair that is a beautiful shade of scarlet, fair skin that looks so smooth and soft it seems to glow in the sunlight. There is something genuinely familiar about her and I continue to watch as she pulls one small seed out of her pocket. She uses her hands to nestle the seed into its cool brown bed. Then as if time holds no value here and months pass as seconds a small green vine appears, leaves sprout and then a beautiful yellow rose buds out and blooms. I know this has to be a dream; it is truly the most amazing thing I have ever seen. I want to go to her, ask her how she created this miracle, what this beautiful place is, and if she knows why I’m here, but I feel rooted where I stand. As if she has heard my internal riot of questions, she turns to look at me and her eyes widen, god but she looks so familiar. She considers me for a moment and then a smile lights up her face, the most beautiful smile. I feel I haven’t seen her smile that carefree in years, and then it hits me. My wondrous Granny. I want to run to her, wrap my arms around her and squeeze her like I haven’t been able to in such a long time for fear of hurting her, but my legs still feel rooted to the ground. Suddenly, as if my joy sparked reality, the crack that has taken up residence in my heart since I lost her is so much more pronounced. It erodes and burns and I find myself clawing at my chest. Whether I’m trying to pull my heart out or smother the pain I don’t know, but it seems a pointless gesture. Granny gives me that all too knowing and reassuring smile before she and the beautiful house and garden seem to lose focus and fade away. I’m sure this is where I wake up, I’ve had my glimpse and it’s time to go. But then a white sheet like material is being pulled over my eyes. It’s like I’m all of a sudden sitting in a movie theater and images start to play out on the white screen. I realize these are the memories I haven’t been able to recall since being in this place. The memories I have been hiding from myself. Not wanting to relive good or bad for fear of the fragile glass façade that is my day to day cracking and crumbling to the ground and bringing me with it. Deep down I know my reluctance to allow myself to grieve properly is why I was brought here. But I’m full of foreboding. I need to be able to function, I cannot fall apart. I have to learn to deal with the loss my Granny, my mother, my friend, true unconditional love. I feel a hot tear track down my cheek and I’m angry. Angry with myself, angry that I’m not strong enough to overcome this. Angry that I know I’m breaking down, angry because no new memories will be made. I watch as every memory is played out before my eyes, big or small they are all precious to me... ~~~ I watch as you fold my five year old hand in yours. You look then as I have seen you today in the garden, healthy, happy. You take me home and cook me Chef Boyardee for an after school snack, then sit and talk to me about my day. I have a cup of water with my lunch but refuse to drink it, the Coke in your mug is so much better and if I smile and ask nicely you share your drink with me. No drink is as good as the one in Granny’s mug. You show me what dolls I can play with because the porcelain you collect are not toys. I watch as you help me grow, being there for me and teaching me when my mother’s sickness does not allow her to. I see us at the train station, it’s time to leave our California home but now it will be just you riding with mom to Colorado. My sister and I were so upset we could not come till weeks later. Mom calmed us. Saying she was going to to be so overjoyed to see us in three weeks that she would be wearing bells at the train station. All growing up you were still there. Whether it was just to talk on the phone or visits to your home in Missouri, I knew I could always count on you. My favorite time of year was summer. Not because there was no school, but because I got to spend time with you. My summer memories are filled with the smells of your house, giant jars of pickles and homemade vegetable beef soup. The sounds of Papa watching TV in his recliner, locust in the trees and the train behind the house at three in the morning. But the best part was having you all to myself. Staying up till three in the morning playing Rummy, talking, laughing, crying. You were the only one I felt comfortable talking about mom with, I knew you would never lie or sugar coat the truth. I was only nine when she lost the battle with her health. You helped me deal with losing her; I never knew I hadn’t fully gotten through it until we started having our midnight talks. Any regular game of Rummy could turn into a situation where we were both sniffling and grabbing for tissue. We talked about that night at the hospital, how you and Aunt Randi told her it was ok to rest. She had been fighting so hard for so long and finally, she just closed her eyes and drifted into an endless sleep. I don’t remember talking, I only remember screaming. I remember running down the hall to try and get to her, to catch her before she went, I didn’t want her to go. Selfishness is an easy trait for a nine year old. You caught me before I got to her room. I kicked and screamed and cried in your arms, asking God to let me keep her, telling him I needed her more than he did, that no one would ever need her as much as me. You told me I broke your heart that day. I stopped crying at the thought or mention of her after that talk. You told me stories about her as a little girl and throughout her life. You reassured me that even though giving birth to me made her sicker she would have done it again in a heartbeat. Our talks became more light hearted after that, filled with midnight sammiches and beauty tips. Life brings me to live in Missouri and closer to you, it is the only good part about being in this state. We resume playing Rummy as often as possible but the holidays are my favorite. Traditional turkey Thanksgiving followed by prime rib Christmas with Secret Santa. You know waiting the month to see family open their gifts was always unbearable for me. I watch as you help me through one of the most challenging situations of my life. When I drove up to you that day I had just finally stopped crying, you were outside with my Aunt and as I walked towards you, you just looked at me and held your arms out. Of course I immediately started crying again but you just knew something was wrong and that I needed you. I remember not knowing how to tell you, being afraid that you would hate me, how could I have ever thought that? I told you that I had fallen in love with my best friend and that that friend just happened to be a girl. Oh, and just to through another problem in the mix, I didn’t know what to do about the man I was no longer in love with after five years together. What a bomb to drop, right? Being that I never really had issues, you were surprised, but you didn’t look at me as if I had just grown two heads so I took it as a good sign. You were not judgmental, you didn’t tell me what to do but you gave me the best advice I could have possibly gotten. You told me, “when confused, the best thing to do is nothing.” You were right, I made the right decision and I am happy to this day because of that decision and you. When your health got bad and you moved into independent living I really enjoyed coming over and helping you pack and cook. It was like my childhood summers all over again. We would pack a little, play some Rummy and talk, then eat dinner and play some more. Only this time we were drinking out of the Raiders mug I bought you instead of a plan colored one. You got into puzzles and I got into helping you with them. For a Granny that didn’t like profanity -if ever you were to say the word “shit” always make sure to emphasize the “P” at the end. “Shi…P… Ah ShiP”- you had no problem getting a little angry at the Homer Simpson puzzle we brought over. Four hours in and only a small five inch section done on the 500 piece mosaic puzzle. Frustrated, you finally threw your pieces down, yelled “Homers a bitch!” and walked away. I will never forget how my Love and I just stared at each other dumbfounded before bursting into crying laughter. It was so hard to see you confined to a chair. Always so vibrant, always pushing yourself a little more to keep your independence, only to fully lose your ability to walk. But still you were always smiling, or using one of your old time sayings that I love so much… “Granny, whatcha doin'?” The best reply ever, “standing under water, stacking BB’s, singing Yankee Doodle.” Or just being you, even if a little less patient always more wonderful. As cataracts started to take your eyesight I couldn’t stand seeing you just stare at the ceiling. You couldn’t read, do a puzzle or play solitaire, you couldn’t even watch TV. I know how much you love mysteries, so we brought you a Discman and an audio book. The joy that filled me at how exited you were will be with me forever. You had never had a Discman or any kind of CD player so when I set it up for you and asked if you liked it, you said “I don’t know what this is but it reads my books to me so I like it.” My world fell apart the night I got a text from my Aunt saying to call as soon as possible. The doctors didn’t think you would make it but a couple more days. All I remember is falling to the ground in the middle of work and begging her to not let you go. How selfish of me. I’m no longer that nine year old girl that didn’t care if her mother was sick as long as she was there. I understand now that the life you were living was no quality of life at all. Even though you were no longer responding I held your hand for a long while that night, taking turns with my Love and Papa, telling you I love you every chance I could. You knew I was there, I know you could feel me with you. But when you whispered you loved me and that you were going to miss me, I let my tears fall on you and I’m sorry. I tried to be stronger, I wanted you to know it was ok, that you could finally rest, just as you had told mom. I didn’t want you to think you had to fight to stay; I have never wanted anything but to make you feel as loved as you have me. Two days later my Aunt called, you passed away peacefully in your sleep. I sat for a long time just staring at the phone. I wanted to cry some more, scream, punch something. But when I though of how much better off you were, pain and stress free, I was thankful. Plus I knew who would be there to greet you. ~~~ I brought my hands up to my face and covered my eyes, I was uncontrollably sobbing now. My heart hurt, my head hurt and I knew my face was bound to be blotchy and raw. Then I felt warm hands clasp over mine and pull my hands away. There she was, my wonderful Granny. Beautiful as ever with a smile on her face that would light up the darkest of nights. I hiccupped my next sob and grabbed a hold of her as tight as I could. I would love to just stay here and never let her go. Once I had stopped crying, she extracted my arms from there secure place around her neck so she could look at my face. Unable to hold back my words I blurted, “I love and miss you so much, I don’t know how or why I’m here but I love you.” She beamed a bright smile before replying simply, “love you.” She had started rubbing her hands up and down on my arms, it was by no means cold but the gesture was unbelievably comforting and so... Granny. She wasn’t talking, just standing there with me, holding me. I took a moment to note my surroundings and realized everything seemed to have dimmed a little. The trees that surrounded the home no longer bright and forest greens but dull dark greens. Knowing what I would find, my gaze searched and immediately found the yellow rose. My hear sank, it had gone from lemon yellow to sort of mustard yellow. Somehow I knew my time in this place was done, that I would have to let her go again. But this time, I would always keep these memories with me. I would not hide them for fear of falling apart, I will revel in them, always allow them and her to make me smile. Much like the picture of me at age four wearing a pumpkin Halloween costume and a two times the size of my mouth Kool-Aid mustache that she kept with her always to make her smile no matter the mood. She gave me one more squeeze and then stepped back. Reluctantly I let her go. Wanting to leave her with something other than my tears, I tried to conjure up the best smile I could. However, I’m sure it came out more like a crooked grimace. Then she spoke, saying the one thing that would comfort me through the rest of my days. “Guess what? She was wearing bells.” ~~~ “Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal” -Unknown The end About The Author: I love to write, it is my outlet for everything. I can't talk for the life of me. Every wonderful thought gets lost in translation on the way to my mouth and I end up sputtering gibberish. So if we need to talk, be prepared for a letter, or else I won't make a lick of sense. If you would like to read more from me, feel free to follow the link below to my other Smashwords page. https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/EveLove