Grandma's Farewell by TALawrence

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    by TALawrence  

I walk past the people outside my grandmother's house. Now the caretaker of her home, I was the one holding the key. Responsibility came at a cost, but I could cope.

Opening the door, I entered first, my mother behind me, carrying the urn. She took it through the house into the living room.

The people who had waited outside congregated in the spacious kitchen, beginning to munch the nibbles which had been laid out by the neighbors who were unable to attend the funeral. There was more than enough for everyone.

I heard unrelated babble as I walked back into the kitchen. Everyone was saying what a lovely woman my gran was, and I learned that she was well respected in her community.

They commented on how it was sad to see her husband die many years before, and how she had wanted to be with him, but slowly came to realize she had a life to enjoy without him. She had put on a brave face when around her friends, but behind closed doors and in front of her family, they could see she felt differently.

As I meandered through them, I smiled to myself as a few patted me on my shoulder and told me how sorry they were.

My mother having been by herself a long time in the living room, I went to see what was keeping her.

I saw her kneel in front of the fireplace as she looked up at the urn, crying.

"Come on mam, its okay. Gran will never be forgotten," I said, bending down to try and entice her to rise.

She shrugged me away.

Exiting the room, I went to get dad.

Whispering in his ear that mam was crying in the living room and I was unable to get her to leave, dad immediately went to see her.

He was successful in removing her from where she sat.

I watched them go upstairs.

A few of the guests watched her, and one or two wanted to make sure she was okay, but my father prevented them by telling them to go back to the food as he didn't want any go to waste.

With my parents upstairs, it was down to me to 'entertain' the guests. I continued mingling, but before long, I wanted to use the toilet.

Walking past the living room, I heard strange noises emanate from the room. I stopped by the door to listen. I thought there was no one in the room, but an unmistakable melody emerged from there. Placing my ears to the door, I heard nothing apart from the music. Pressing down on the handle, I opened it a little, glancing in.

What I witnessed made me cry.

Closing it quietly, I crept upstairs not to disturb what I saw.

"Mam, you have to come and see this," I whispered, entering the bedroom.

My father looked at me, "Not now. She needs her rest."

"But..." I insisted.

"No." My father equally urged.

"Mam, if you don't come to see this, you may regret it for the rest of your life." I wanted her to listen, to witness what I had.

She raised her head from the pillow, looking a little drugged.

My father rose first, holding out his arm for my mother to hold. "Now, don't be too long," he said, leading her from the bedroom, and scowled at me.

I smiled at him, not wanting to tell him anything.

As I walked down the stairs behind her, I asked, "Can you hear it?"

"Hear what?" My father asked.

My mother turned her head, and I immediately knew she had.

"It's coming from the living room," I informed her.

Still walking as slowly as she had started, she eventually reached the bottom.

I pushed past her to go to the living room door, pushing the handle down slowly and opening it slightly, waving at my mother to look through the crack.

She did, and there it was. She witnessed what I had seen.

She opened the door a little wider and my father was able to see the same.

The spirits of my grandparents dancing in the middle of the room to what was probably one of their favorite 'old' songs, 'Be My Baby'. When it reached the line 'You know I will adore you 'till eternity' I heard my grandfather sing those words before vaporizing from the room.

My mother pushed the door fully open, crying as she ran inside.

I followed.

As I trod over the carpet where the dancing had happened I felt a warmth and smiled to myself.

My mother went to the urn, pulling it off the shelf. She looked inside, before showing it to us.

It was empty.

"Dad came to get her like she always knew he would," my mother said.

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