One Saturday, during the winter of 1921, 11-year-old Leona experienced the first traumatic shock of her young life. Grandma Eunice unexpectedly suffered a heart attack while she was visiting the Haleys for another storytelling session. When Eunice arrived at the Haleys’—at one o’clock sharp in the afternoon as usual—nothing seemed out of the ordinary. In fact, Margaret even mentioned how young her elderly mother looked. After thanking Margaret for the compliment, Eunice placed a basket on the table and said:
“I know you have beans every Saturday night, so I baked you a loaf of bread for your supper. I thought I’d save you the trouble.”
Although Margaret normally enjoyed baking bread for her family, today she wasn’t feeling up to it and Eunice’s fresh baked bread was a godsend.
“Thanks, Mom. I hav’ta admit that I was hardly looking forward to mixin’ the batter today. I’ve been a little under the weather of late.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, dear. Do you want me to come back another day?” Eunice asked.
“I should say not! Hearing some new juicy gossip is just the medicine I need. If anything will perk me up, your stories will.”
“Good! And maybe this basketful of cookies I brought to munch on will perk you up too. By the way, how’s Murdock doing?” Eunice asked as she sat down and lifted the red-and-white striped cloth from the top of her picnic basket.
“He’s doing just fine. He just had a checkup a couple of days ago and Dr. Gifford gave him a clean bill of health; says he’s as fit as a fiddle.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Maggie. I was worried; he was looking a mite peak-ed to me yesterday. In fact, he looked like death warmed over.”
“Oh, he’s just a little tired from a lack of sleep, that’s all,” Margaret said after she stopped laughing. “He’s been very busy these days, cutting down trees and sawing them into firewood logs. By the way, how’s Maude? You seen her lately?”
“Yeah, saw her two days ago,” Eunice replied. “As usual she’s as busy as all-get-out. Her one-month-old is a handful, what with having to care for year-old twins, especially with little Paul the way he is. Thank God, Pauline wasn’t hurt too when Maude fell, or she’d really have her hands full. Anyway, I don’t know how she does it with five little ones. To think, it took her seven years to give birth to her first one; now, with six in seven years, she’s popping ‘em out left and right.”
—1—
Leona sat patiently waiting for her mother and grandmother to finish with the news of the day and to begin telling their stories. She knew she wouldn’t have to wait much longer when she saw a certain mischievous look appear on Eunice’s face. That was the look her grandmother always had when she was about to tell one of her humorous stories. The old woman’s eyes gleamed as if something had just popped into her head, turning on the bright light that lit up her imagination.
“Oh! Did you hear what happened to old Mr. Kelley when he was feeding his pigs?”
“No, what?” Margaret asked.
“You’ll never believe it!” Eunice replied. Three minutes later, everyone in the Haley household was laughing uncontrollably.
“I can just imagine how long it took him to get the smell of that pig slop out of his clothes,” Eunice laughed.
When the story was finally told, Leona was laughing hardest of all. She just loved to laugh, but most of all she loved to hear other people laughing, especially her sister Lillian, whose laugh now sounded even more unusual than in the past. And although Arlene also had a similar high-pitched laugh, Leona knew that it was no match for that of her older sister. Indeed, Lillian’s laugh had a character of its own. Although Lillian had nowhere near the storytelling ability that others at that table possessed, her laugh more than made up for it by causing the laughter of everyone else to be magnified, at times making the story even more enjoyable and seemingly funnier than it was.
—2—
As soon as the laughter subsided and Leona was sure that Grandma Eunice was finished with her story, the 11-year-old had a story of her own to tell. And she was confident that her story would be as entertaining as any other, because it was at these storytelling sessions that Leona learned how to refine her stories and to tell them with a flair of her own. Indeed, she quickly learned to mimic her mother’s voice, inflections, and mannerisms to accent her own inherent style. She even managed to make little Wally laugh once in a while, especially when her stories were about him. And this day was such an occasion. As Leona began her story, Wally’s eyes lit up.
“Last year, when Wally was five, he stayed awake on Christmas Eve, hoping to catch Santa Claus in the act. He said he wanted to sleep in my room that night, so I let him.”
Before she could continue, Margaret interrupted.
“That was the first time Wally didn’t want to sleep in the crib or in our bed. I remember Murdy asking me what was up, because we had tried our darn’dest for over a year to get Wally to sleep upstairs. But it was to no avail. And then, out of the blue, he wants to sleep in Leona’s room. Anyway, Leona, go ahead with your story.”
“Well, when Wally thought I was asleep I watched him sneak out of my room, tiptoe down the stairs, and climb onto the couch near the Christmas tree. He lay there as quiet as a mouse for almost a half-hour, with his head resting on the pretty blue pillow that Papa gave to Mama for their wedding anniversary. Wally even had a woolen blanket pulled around his body to keep himself warm while he glued his eyes to the tree and patiently waited for Santa to arrive. Finally, after struggling for a good half-hour to stay awake, he fell asleep. And when he woke up early Christmas morning, he realized that all of the cookies that we left out for Santa were gone; and the glass of milk was empty too.
“I went back to my bedroom after Wally fell asleep, and at four-thirty he comes running in and wakes me up, yelling: ‘Leona! Leona! Santa has come! Come quick and see!’ He was so excited that he could hardly speak. And when he finally calmed down, he said: ‘I saw Santa put presents under the tree last night.’ And then he said: ‘And I saw Santa eat the milk and cookies before he flew away to deliver his presents to more good boys like me.’ It was so funny.”
After hearing Leona using her best imitation of Wally, everyone broke into laughter, except, of course, 6-year-old Wally who really couldn’t understand why everyone was laughing. After all, “What’s so funny about seeing Santa Claus?” he wondered.
When Leona was done telling the story, Margaret turned to Wally and said: “Now, I know why you were so anxious to sleep in Leona’s room that night, Wally. You didn’t want me or your Papa catching you sneaking out of your crib, did you?”
Leona’s story also reminded Margaret of the time that her youngest daughter had left cookies out for Santa Claus.
“She was 8 years old, and she was so excited because it was the first time that she got to leave cookies for Santa,” Margaret explained. “The only thing was: she had to have left at least two-dozen of them on the table for the jolly ole man. Needless to say, the old boy must’ah had a much larger bowl full of jelly the next morning. In fact, he probably had ah-heck-of-ah time climbing up and down chimneys the rest of that night.”
Not only did all the others around the kitchen table break into thunderous laughter, so did Leona. After getting her laughter almost under control, she giggled and said: “But I didn’t want poor Santa to starve.”
“Well, you certainly took care of that, Leona,” her mother said. “But I have a feeling that Santa’s health wasn’t what you were most concerned about that night. Could it be that you wanted a really good present from Santa that year?” she asked, trying to keep a straight face.
When everyone saw Leona’s face turn beet-red, they knew what the answer was.
—3—
After Margaret was finished with her story, Eunice began to tell a story about a lobsterman’s encounter with a tourist from Massachusetts. She was told the story by a distant relative living on the coast; “near Rockland,” Leona thought she said. When Eunice finished, everyone was practically rolling on the floor from laughing so hard.
“He probably didn’t need that finger anyway,” Margaret joked. And that’s when it happened. In the middle of the laughter, Eunice grabbed her chest and collapsed face down on the kitchen table. Margaret rushed to her side, instantly knowing what was wrong.
“Quick, run and get the blanket from the couch,” she told Lillian.
When Lillian returned barely six seconds later, Margaret said: “Put it here on the floor and help me lay Grandma Eunice on her back.”
The kids watched intently as Margaret began pressing on Eunice’s chest. In about a half-minute she was able to revive her mother. She and Lillian helped Eunice walk to the living room couch, and Margaret sent her eldest daughter to fetch Murdock. Lillian ran all the way to Foggs’ farm where she found her father working high in the hayloft, throwing down hay for the night’s feeding. On the way home Murdock stopped at Eunice’s place to phone the doctor. After finding the house-key that Eunice always kept hidden outside, he went inside and made the call. Then he called Margaret’s sisters. They arrived at the Haleys’ within five minutes, and it wasn’t more than twenty minutes after Murdock arrived home that Dr. Gifford showed up.
“We’ll have to get her to the hospital as fast as we can,” the doctor said. “There’s not much I can do here, other than give her a nitro pill. She needs to be under observation for a day or two. Hopefully, it’s not too serious.”
“I’ll go with you, Dr. Gifford,” Mae said. “Maude, you can take my carriage back home. Don’t worry, Maggie; mom will be fine. I’ll take good care of her.”
“Thanks, Mae,” Margaret said. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Eunice was admitted to the hospital in Bangor, and the tests they performed were inconclusive, so she returned to her home a few days later thinking everything was fine. However, on February 22nd, 1921, a dreary Tuesday, the 76-year-old woman suffered another heart attack and died in her sleep.
—4—
Although Leona was devastated by Eunice’s passing, something her mother said about the manner of Grandma Carver’s death gave the 11-year-old some consolation.
“At least my mother didn’t suffer long; and it’s comforting to know that she had her first heart attack while laughing at one of her own stories and then went peacefully in her sleep. I only hope I go that way,” Margaret told her husband and children when they were sitting around the supper table on the night of Eunice’s death.
Although somewhat comforted by Margaret’s initial comments, her last statement gave Leona pause. Except for right after her father’s accident, she never considered the possibility of her parents dying. When forced to think about it again by her mother’s remark, a chill came over her. Then a question that Arlene asked, and her mother’s response to it, sent even more chills through Leona.
“Are you and Papa gonna die someday, Mama?” Arlene asked.
“We’re all going to die someday, dear; it’s part of life,” she answered, knowing that it was time for her children to face that reality.
She and Murdock had often talked about educating them on that part of life, and Eunice’s death now made it imperative.
“I hope it’s not going to happen to any of us for a very long time, but someday it will,” Margaret continued. “And when it does, those remaining here on Earth will have to take comfort in each other and help each other get through what will be a very rough time. But just remember, sweetheart, whoever passes will be in Heaven with your grandma.”
Leona was pondering her mother’s words and was about to say something when little Wally asked a question.
“Mama, what happened to Grandma?”
The 6-year-old sensed something was wrong from the conversation he was hearing; yet he was too young to understand what was being said. After explaining Grandma Eunice’s death to him, Margaret said:
“And now she’s watching over us in Heaven.”
“Will she still be able to hear our stories?” Leona asked.
“Oh, yes! You don’t hav’ta worry about that,” Murdock volunteered. “She’ll be laughing with us, and at us, as hard as ever. It’s just that we won’t be able to see her, or hear her, except in our hearts. And maybe in our dreams.”
—5—
Murdock’s words turned out to be prophetic. Leona was the first to see Grandma Eunice in a dream, albeit briefly. It was the afternoon of the funeral and Leona had a dream similar to the two she experienced before, first as an 8-year-old and then as a 10-year-old. However, in this dream 11-year-old Leona was with her mother when it began. They were sitting on the porch swing, gently swinging and watching the clouds float by. After a while, Leona began to become drowsy and lay down on the swing with her head resting on Margaret’s soft lap, still watching the puffy clouds.
“What a beautiful day,” Margaret said. And then she winced in pain, saying: “Ouch!”
“What’s wrong, Mama?” Leona asked.
“Oh, nothing, dear. Just get a twitch every now and again. Nothin’ to worry about though.”
Suddenly the bright-blue sky became pitch black, and Leona could see the stars as clearly as she had ever seen them. All the constellations seemed to stand out in the black sky. It seemed like Leona could easily find the Big Dipper or the North Star or anything else, first by thinking about them and then by turning her eyes to where her mind told her to look. Although she didn’t know which one it was, off in the distance she noticed a star much brighter than all the other stars in the heavens, yet it wasn’t that much bigger than the others.
“That must be Venus,” Leona told her mother, as she pointed to the bright star.
“I don’t thinks so, dear; that’s Venus over there,” Margaret gestured. “And that other star is much brighter than any I’ve ever seen before. Must be like the one The Three Wise Men saw. Look! It’s getting brighter. And it looks like it’s getting closer. That must be a shooting star.”
After a few seconds, Leona sat up and yelled: “Mama, it’s coming right at us!”
Indeed it was. The star that Leona and her mother were observing was rushing toward them at an incredible speed, getting bigger and bigger by the second. The two saw the object streaking at them so fast that they became frightened and started to get up to run, but neither was able to move beyond a sitting position. A fearful Margaret hugged her daughter, thinking the end was near. The next thing she knew, the object turned as it neared the Earth, veering off and flying slowly, only a few feet above the ground, first toward the Cemetery Road and then toward Eunice’s home. It circled above the rooftop for a while and then headed back toward Leona and her mother. Their eyes widened as the bright spherical object suddenly stopped and hovered in front of them. Its now eerie glow began to illuminate the earth and air around them with a yellow-green haze. By this time they were able to rise to their feet. Even as the huge object moved slowly toward them they lost all fear and stood transfixed, lost in the beauty of the hazy sphere that now appeared as a breathtaking multicolored cloud, even more alluring than before. Finally the slow moving cloud passed right through them, and as it did they watched each other fade away, becoming part of the mysterious cloud. And it was as if they were slowly falling into a deep sleep.
When Leona awoke on her comet and walked out of the colorful mist, she was standing next to her mother’s flower garden. Something inside the astonished girl told her to look toward the far corner of the south field; and she did. For a while Leona saw nothing but the spring-like yellowish-green grass that appeared before her eyes the last time she visited her comet, but within seconds a large mist appeared just beyond the corner of the field and then it lifted to reveal her grandmother’s old home. And soon thereafter, a long winding path with a row of flowers on each side was forming in the field, eventually making its way from Leona’s home to the Carver home. It was the same winding path that Leona had seen her grandmother walk so many times before when she came for a visit, except the flowers were so much more beautiful.
Leona started down Grandma’s Path, but stopped when a family of rabbits hopped across it, right in front of her. Four cute little ones were obediently following their mother and father. And then a frail old rabbit jumped out of the garden and remained motionless on the path, studying Leona. Then it turned and followed the other rabbits across the path. It was at that moment that Leona realized she was now standing smack in the middle of Grandma’s Path looking at the most beautiful blue sky she had ever seen. The sky was also full of pure-white, fluffy clouds and full of stars that streaked by, one after the other. While watching the sky-filled spectacle, Leona heard a voice.
“You-who, dear. It’s Grandma Eunice.”
Leona turned to see her grandmother coming toward her on the long, narrow path.
“Grandma! Is it really you?” she said.
“Yes, sweetie. Aren’t these flowers along my path beautiful? They’re even more beautiful than your mother’s flowers, don’t you think?”
“Well, it sure is beautiful all right, but I’m not sure anything is as pretty as my mother’s flower garden.”
“I suppose not,” Eunice said.
“Here, Grandma, take my hand; there’s someone who wants to talk to you,” Leona said as she led her grandmother back to the colorful mist that brought her here. Out of the hazy mist stepped a figure.
“Edward! I’ve missed you terribly. You look wonderful,” Eunice cried out.
Then, noticing that her mother was nowhere to be found, a befuddled Leona asked:
“Where’s my mother? She was with me. How come she’s not here now, Grandma?”
“It’s not her time, dear. But she’ll be here, all in good time. And when she does get here, I have a wonderful story to tell her,” Eunice said.
Leona’s eyes brightened and she pleaded: “Can I hear it, Grandma?”
“No sweetheart, I have to tell your mother first. But you’ll hear the story soon enough. In the meantime, I want you to meet your grandfather Carver.”
—6—
Before Leona could ask Eunice another question she awoke from her dream, feeling less depressed about her grandmother’s passing. She ran inside to tell her mother about the unusual dream, and this time it seemed to ease her mother’s pain too. When Leona asked her mother what the dream meant, Margaret answered as best she could.
“I don’t know for sure, dear, but I think you saw Grandma Eunice in Heaven, where she’ll be safe and happy, from now ‘til eternity.”
“But where were you, Mama?” Leona asked. “Why didn’t you come?”
“I’m not sure, sweetheart, but if that really was Heaven, I’m kind of glad I wasn’t there. I’ll get there soon enough as it is. At least, I hope that’s where I end up,” she laughed.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Mama. Papa says all good people go to Heaven.”
“Well, thank you, sweetheart,” Margaret responded. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long while.”
“Mama, why do you think I was there with Grandma?” Leona asked.
“It was just a dream, dear. You probably had her on your mind, just before you fell asleep,” Margaret assured her confused daughter.
“I wonder what story Grandma Eunice wants to tell you?” Leona continued to quiz her mother.
“Maybe it was a story she wanted to tell us the day she had her heart attack.”
“But why wouldn’t she tell the story to me?”
“I don’t know why, sweetheart. Dreams don’t always make sense. But Grandma Eunice said that someday you’ll hear the story, and I’m sure that someday you will.”
That seemed to satisfy Leona, at least for now. Although she was visibly saddened by her grandmother’s death, she realized that her mother’s grief was tenfold her own, especially after hearing Margaret talk to Murdock that night.
“Even though my mom had a good, long life, Murdy, it’s hard when you lose a parent. It took me two years to get over my father’s death. But at least I’m lucky this time that I have you and the kids to help keep my mind occupied. And I’m glad that my mother and father are back together again. They were such good friends.”
—7—
Although it took Lillian, Arlene and Leona a long time to get over their grandmother’s death, it didn’t take their brother Wally that long to get over it. Maybe it was because of the way Margaret explained it to him, or maybe it was because he was too young to totally understand death. Regardless, Margaret was happy that her son handled it as well as he did.
“There’s something to be said for being young and innocent,” Murdock told her one night when they were discussing Wally’s reaction.
“I suppose. I almost wish I had the ability to forget that my mother is gone.”
“Now, Maggie, you don’t really mean that, do you?”
“No, I suppose not. I never want to forget my mother. I just want the hurting to stop.”
“It will, Maggie. It just takes time.”
“I sure hope so. Anyway, I’m glad Wally has good friends to play with outside the house. Earl Terrill, Mae’s son Woodrow, and Maude’s son Lloyd keep him plenty busy playing hide and seek, cowboys and Indians, and the like. I can’t believe that he and Earl will be going into the 1st grade come fall.”
“Me neither, sweetheart,” Murdock said. “In fact, I was talking to Mrs. Terrill about that, just last week. She said it seems like yesterday that she gave birth to Earl.”
“I know what she means. That’s the way I feel about Wally, and I suppose Mae and Maude feel that way about their boys.”
“Do you think it will take Leona long to get over your mother’s death?” Murdock asked.
“No, I don’t think so. Her dream seemed to help a lot with that.”
“Good. This is one time I’m happy she had one of those fantastic dreams of hers,” Murdock said. “They may not be real, but if they can help make her life easier, I suppose there’s no harm in them. And maybe having Mae close by will help her too.”
Shortly after Eunice’s death, Leona’s Aunt Mae moved into her mother’s empty home. She and her husband still had not moved to California as they had planned to do; so, to Mae, living in her parents’ old home was the next best thing until they could finally make the move to a warmer climate. And that was okay with Leona because she loved listening to her Aunt Mae lovingly put down her husband with good-natured jabs, using her all too typical Maine witticism. But even though Leona truly enjoyed talking to her Aunt Mae, in the 11-year-old’s mind, no one could take the place of Grandma Eunice and the stories she told.