The look on Savannah’s face didn’t surprise me at all. I just wondered if it meant I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of changing her mind.
“I just can’t do it, Dellie,” she said, her words echoing her expression. “What if something happened? Or nothing happened? What if I tried, and literally nothing happened? I’d have no way to pay her back, and then I’d have to live with knowing that I failed and that I was in debt to a friend who I could never even begin to repay. I can’t do it,” she said again.
“She believes in you, Savannah, and that’s why she offered it to you. I know we talked about this before, and I really do understand how you feel. Taking such a big risk like that isn’t easy. But she wants to do this for you,” I turned away from the airplane we’d been staring at for the past five minutes as we spoke, seeing it but not really seeing it. We were at Air Power Park, one of Hampton’s many gems of attraction, an outdoor collection of airplanes that dotted the landscape around a small military aircraft museum. Uncle Luke had brought Charlie and me here many times when we were little, on sunny days when the park seemed like the perfect place to sit and enjoy the icy sweetness of a Slurpee from the 7-Eleven. And now, on this sunny afternoon mere days away from the day that I would board the plane for home, it seemed like the perfect place to talk to my new friend about allowing her dreams to take flight.
I was fresh off my meeting with Annabelle, feeling optimistic about the future ahead—not only for me, but for the three women who had become so important to me as well.
“What if I fail?” she asked again, looking slightly green at the thought. “I’ll have left the security of a job and have nothing, Dellie. How can I do that?”
I reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly in mine as I spoke. “You won’t have nothing, Savannah. You’ll still have Vivi and Annabelle and all the other people here who love you and believe in you. Let them show up for you—there’s no doubt in my mind that they will. Open up that truck of yours, Savannah, and let everyone else see what a talented woman you are. Sure, it’s off-the-wall, but it’s good. It’s really good, and you’re going to make it. It’s definitely not going to be easy, but you won’t regret it.” I smiled at her. “Take it from someone who knows. Telling the boss you’re quitting to go off and live your dream isn’t an easy conversation to have. It can even feel a little bit ludicrous. But you can’t let your dream slip away when the chance to take it is being offered to you. Do it, and make your parents proud. Make Caleb proud.”
Tears sprang to Savannah’s eyes, and I knew my words had hit home. This was the one thing I could do for her, to repay her for the gifts she had given me during my month here. I could offer her the encouragement of a fellow dreamer, one who had reached out for something that seemed almost impossible to do, but still impossible to ignore.
Hopefully it would make a difference.
“Grandpa, what are you going to do when I’m not here to bug you anymore?” I asked with a smile as I curled into a hug one day later, one day closer to my departure date. I had only four full days left here, only four more days left to repay everyone who had so generously enriched my life, even in this short month that I had been in Hampton. It was amazing to think about, really, to look back and recount all the ways that I had been touched and changed by the people I’d met and the family I had reconnected with. I could hardly go back home now and do them all the disservice of not being inspired and motivated by them, to take the challenges I was facing and defeat them. I had come here for a reason, and I would honor that—and them—by embracing a new kind of life. One that was healthier and happier and fuller.
“I’ve loved having you here, Dellie, and you’d be welcome to stay even longer if you wanted to. I hope you know that,” he said, holding me tight against his chest.
“You mean I haven’t worn out my welcome?” My voice came out a little bit muffled as my face pressed into his shoulder, but I was pretty sure he could still tell what I was saying. “Even with all the nosing around I’ve done and getting all up in your business?” I had a teasing note to my voice, but I really needed to make sure that we were good, that I hadn’t pushed too hard the night we’d had our argument over Annabelle.
“Never. I love you, Dellie. You’s my girl,” he said, and his voice rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m glad you came. Promise you won’t stay away so long before you come back to see me again?”
I nodded. “I promise. I shouldn’t have stayed away this long, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for not being here for Grammie’s funeral, Grandpa. I hope that’s something you can forgive me for.”
“What’s to forgive? You had to work, and I understand that. I was never upset with you for that. It would have been nice to have you here, but I understood why you couldn’t be.”
I knew he meant his words to be reassuring, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him what had really kept me away. How could I ever fully explain it to him?
“Thank you for that,” I said simply, knowing that he would never really understand how much I had needed to hear him speak those words. “And I’m sorry if I overstepped when I brought up Annabelle, Grandpa. I didn’t mean to stir up trouble or be disrespectful at all. I was trying to help.”
Not that I’d done much good on his end, but I’d still tried. And I had hope now, after my talk with Annabelle, that maybe something would change. She was a smart, determined, and resourceful woman, and I had no doubt that she would be able to work her magic somehow. Only time would tell.
“I know I got a little riled up there, and I’m sorry for that,” he said, surprising me. “I hope you didn’t think I was angry with you. It had nothing to do with you.” He repositioned his meaty paws on my forearms and pushed out from the embrace so he could look me in the eye. “Annabelle and I won’t ever be friends, Dellie. But it doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. She doesn’t care for me any more than I care for her, and that’s the way it’s always going to be. Just is.” He shrugged, but the look in his eyes wasn’t so casual, and I knew not to press the issue, even though I wanted so badly to be able to flip a switch and change his mind. Annabelle was a good woman, the kind who Grammie had respected, but he wasn’t giving her the chance she deserved.
I had tried my best. Now, it was up to Annabelle.
I nodded.
“I understand,” I said quietly. There were other things to do now, most importantly to make the best of the time I had left with my grandfather during these next few days. “So, since today is my last Saturday here and all, could we spend some time together?” I asked, hoping that he would be up for a day of idle wandering with me. I really had no clear idea of anything I wanted to do, aside from just being together. I had been away for far too long. And even though I’d come up for a month, I still felt a little bit like I’d only scratched the surface of making up for all that lost time.
Maybe it was guilt over that, and maybe it was the slight edge of fear that crept in whenever I reflected on the reality that Grandpa was getting older—all of us were—and no one ever had any idea of when our time would run out.
Maybe it was the fact that I had reconnected with parts of myself that I’d thought were lost; and I was afraid that, in going home, I would lose sight of them again.
Whatever it was—and maybe it was a mixture of them all—even though I missed home and wanted to go back, some part of me wished I could stay here longer. If only I could divide my cells, I thought, realizing, even as I had the thought, how ridiculous it was. Just what the world needed: two of me to put up with, in all my screwiness.
Unaware of the swirl of thoughts and emotions running through me, Grandpa just smiled. “Of course we could. I was hoping you didn’t have plans to run off with those new friends of yours and would have some time to spend with your old grandpa today.”
I pulled him in for another hug. “Nothing else I’d rather do.” I paused, my mind completely blank of ideas of how we could spend the next few hours. What could we do that we hadn’t done yet?
“We haven’t had Wilkes yet, and I’d hate to have to send you home knowing that I didn’t take you at least once. Your grammie would skin me alive,” he said, thankfully relieving me of at least part of the responsibility of coming up with a plan.
“You’re right, we haven’t. How did that happen?” I asked, genuinely surprised at the fact that almost the entire month had slipped by without his suggestion that we make a visit to the mini mecca of smoked meats.
Grandpa shrugged. “Don’t know. Guess we got busy with other things.”
That and, if I was going to be perfectly honest, I had probably allowed it to become forgotten because, even though I really wanted to go, I was also really afraid. Even though the hand-pulled pork was smoked and incredibly lean, it had still become a casualty of my safe list, straddling the line just enough that I had abandoned it altogether.
Eat Somewhere Unsafe. Eat Something Unsafe.
My bucket list flashed before my mind’s eye.
I blinked, trying to get a grip on the mental gymnastics that were playing out in my head and in the pit of my stomach. I had only a few days left here.
Was I going to let my panic rob me of the joy of having insanely good barbecue with my grandfather, at a place I had loved since childhood?
Or was I going to listen to the part of me that saw it for what it was: a sandwich, not a death sentence.
One small taste of normalcy, one more memory to make.
One more thing on my bucket list.
I smiled, knowing it was probably more than a little wobbly-looking. “We’re going to have to fix that, then.”
“Can’t wait. We can pick it up and bring it back here to eat, since there’s nowhere to sit there, or we could go to a park. Your choice.”
I thought for a moment. Was there anywhere I wanted to go? Not really. I’d been to the carousel and Air Power Park, and those were really the only two places I knew of that were pretty conducive to picnics. I could hardly claim to be an authority on Hampton’s park situation, though, so I was more than likely missing a few dozen places that would be ideal…but still. I cocked my head thoughtfully.
“How about we come right back here and sit out on the deck. We haven’t done enough of that, and the weather looks perfect for it, don’t you think?” I asked.
“That it does. So what do you want to do with the rest of the day?” he asked, clearly unaware of the panic-inducing nature of the question.
What was there to do? I wanted to spend time with him, but I had absolutely no idea of how we might fill that time. We’d done everything my sad little brain could come up with already, except… How could I have been so thoughtless? The idea hit me like a slap, it was so obvious, and I couldn’t believe no one had already suggested taking me there. The whole month had slipped by, and not once had it come up. Perhaps it had become so much of everyone else’s background that the thought had never occurred to anyone.
Time to change that.
“I want to go see Grammie’s grave,” I said, nearly choking on the words.
The look on his face was one I was not prepared for—a mixture of pain and what I could only guess was surprise, most likely at the fact that we had allowed all this time to pass without ever once bringing the idea up. How had we all so greatly neglected such an obvious thing? I was shamed and saddened by it. How often over the past month had Grammie had been in my heart, on my mind, and in my conversations? Yet the idea of her being at the cemetery had not been one that I had allowed my mind to touch. I wondered if it might not have been a subconscious way of protecting myself, of not letting that part of the reality that she was truly gone hit home.
If I didn’t see her headstone, it was a little less realistic.
The cold stone of a grave seemed so…final. So impersonal.
So unlike Grammie.
Grandpa nodded, swallowing back tears. It was the first time I could recall ever seeing him that close to crying, and it tore my heart to shreds.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask before now,” I said, barely finding my voice. “I should have. I just somehow…” How could I even begin to explain?
Grandpa nodded again, then cleared his throat. He looked as though he had aged in just the past few minutes. “Don’t apologize, Dellie. I’ve been meaning to ask you.” His voice was gruff with emotion.
“Well, it’s not too late to do it now,” I said, hoping to reassure him.
“No,” he agreed, attempting a smile. “It’s not too late.”
I asked Grandpa to stop off at the Food Lion on the way to the cemetery so that I could buy a balloon. I’d considered flowers, but for my purposes, I thought a balloon was much more appropriate. As we drove slowly down the small winding road that traveled through the cemetery, I could feel my stomach tighten and my nose stinging with tears.
The closer we got, the harder it was to control them.
Was I ready for this?
No, but I found it hard to believe that you could ever really be ready to see the headstone of someone you had known and loved your entire life, someone who had seemed as though they would always be there.
We were both silent as we rode on in the truck, and I wondered what Grandpa was thinking.
How many times had he come here in the days since her burial?
How many flowers had he brought to this place that marked the passage of the woman he had loved for more than half a century?
We finally pulled to a stop; and Grandpa cut the engine, his movements slow and heavy, like he was dreading this as much as I was. I reached out a hand to take his, squeezing it tightly as I tried to get my breathing back to normal levels.
Were we ready?
No. Not really.
But it was time.
I gave him a small smile that was meant for me as much as for him, hoping that, in the steps between here and that small slab of engraved stone that I would be able to get a firmer grip on my emotions, that I would be able to get my heart and my mind in line with the reality of all of this. This moment, this place, was like the punctuation mark on the end of a sentence, one that had been a string of words left open to the possibility of more. One that signified a life that wasn’t over… And now it was.
I slinked down from the high seat of the truck cab, getting my feet under me on the ground and tugging the balloon out with me, making sure that it was happily bobbing in the air above my head before I shut the door behind me.
It seemed almost absurd here, in this setting that felt so final, to see the optimistic bounce of a balloon as a light breeze blew through the lush green grounds. Once again, I’d chosen a lavender one, wanting to pay homage to Grammie’s love of the color. But this one—unlike the plain Jane version I’d bought the day Vivi, Savannah, and I had celebrated Savannah’s mother’s birthday—was pearlescent; and I’d practically swooned with delight when I’d found it. It was like a floating lavender pearl—from me, Dellie Pearl. And it was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Grandpa followed behind me, silently trudging up the small patch of grass that separated the paved drive from the countless pieces of stone, concrete, and marble that marked the passing of so many lives, each of them hardly doing justice to the people whose earthly remains rested below. And now Grammie’s name was among them.
The balloon bounced and bobbed, blissfully unaware of its somber surroundings.
Finding Grammie’s marker was easy enough, mere steps away from the drive and in the middle of an almost overwhelming number of other stones bearing names that were both familiar and foreign to me—names traceable in my family tree, names I had spoken many times throughout my own lifetime during visits to this city where my family history had taken such deep root. Grammie had been the last in her line, outliving brothers and sisters, growing old with them and sometimes even taking care of them as the years passed, never withholding her love from them, even when others would have easily turned their backs.
The ground was littered with the remains of these lives, each of their stories finalized by this place.
Or was it? I wondered as I looked around at the markers. Each of these names lived on in the hearts and lives of the ones they left behind, the legacies they built far outlasting them and carrying on for generations.
The balloon tugged lightly on my hand, gently reminding me of what we had come here for.
“So that’s it,” I said quietly, my gaze finally coming to rest on Grammie’s plot.
“That’s it.” Grandpa’s own voice was quiet as he said the words, and I could see the sheen of tears as I glanced at him.
The sentiment was simple, scrolled across the small stone marker that was meant to honor her. Far too simple, but how could the complexities of a life ever truly be whittled down to fit the confines of a headstone?
Meredith Rose Samuelson
Beloved wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and friend
1933–2013.
Eighty years she had lived. Eighty years full of life and love and heartache and joy that could hardly be contained here. And they weren’t. They pumped through the pulses of each of her children and her children’s children, lived on in the memories of those who may not have been relations by blood, but whose own lives had been changed by hers.
I love you, Grammie, I thought, closing my eyes to the strange stillness of the cemetery. I love you, and I miss you. We all miss you. Thank you for being the woman that you were, the treasure that you were. And thank you for showing me, in the life that you lived, that the struggles we face can make us even more beautiful, and that we are all worth cherishing.
I opened my eyes again as, one by one, I uncurled the fingers on my right hand, releasing the balloon to take fight and soar. High, high above our heads. Free to fly wherever the wind took it, hopefully catching the eye of someone, somewhere, and making them smile.
Grandpa and I stood there watching in silence as it floated away, not even moving as it faded from view.
“She would have liked that,” he said at last, breaking the quietude.
I smiled and looked over at him. “I hope so. And I hope that she really knew how much I loved her.”
“She knew, Dellie,” he said, his lined face serious. “She knew.”