A Grandparent is a little bit parent, a little bit teacher, and a little bit best friend.
Unknown
This is day three of my hospital stay. My morning routine is the same as yesterday: the nurse cleans me up and changes my fluids.
Two doctors come to read my chart and examine me.
They talk about an EEG test that was done to detect any abnormality in my brain waves, as well as the activity of my brain. Everything looks normal and seems to be healing well.
A physical therapist ensures I do not lose muscle by lifting and bending my legs and arms while lying in bed.
After all that exertion, I needed to rest, and even though my body wasn’t traveling, my spirit within my body needed rest.
Once I feel rejuvenated, the angel and I are ready for our second day of venturing back into my past. My spirit rises, and he takes my hand. I look, and we are in South Carolina, visiting my grandparents.
I look about fourteen, and Anita is fifteen.
Watching Anita complain to Grandmother about standing in a hot kitchen instead of hanging out with her friends is comical.
Grandmother ignores her because she is teaching us how to make blueberry pies. I can’t blame Anita. That little house has no air conditioning. The fan is blowing hot air, making it even more stifling for the three of us in that kitchen.
My pie crust isn’t flaky and tender like my grandmother’s. Anita laughs, calling me a screw-up. She’s frustrated that she is stuck in that hothouse and decides to take it out on me.
Grandmother tells her to hush up; this is my first pie, which isn’t supposed to be perfect. She then laughs as she tastes Anita’s pie and says, “Girl, yours has some issues of its own.”
As we all laugh, she says, “Practice makes perfect, girls, and that’s in everything you do. Your next pies will be better.” She also says, “Don’t allow anyone to steal your joy. It’s okay to laugh at yourself and with others about yourself.”
We both kiss Grandmother as we continue laughing. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.
She was always cheerful, making jokes which made us laugh.
Grandmother was the one who got me interested in fashion. She took us to purchase patterns and fabrics and taught us how to sew. By the end of summer, we had made outfits for the upcoming school year.
Anita hated it, but I loved it. I felt proud wearing the clothes I had made. But Anita wanted to go to the store like ordinary people and buy our clothes. Grandmother laughed, saying, “We aren’t ordinary; we’re extraordinary.” She also said, “Your mother hated sewing, too.”
Our grandparents were quirky and fun.
Grandmother would make us sit in the dark and be quiet when it thundered and lightened. She would tell us that lightning would find and strike us if we were seen or heard. We would sit still, too scared to make a sound until the storm passed.
Grandmother would sit quietly in the dark with us.
I’m laughing now, but it wasn’t funny then.
I said aloud, “There’s that rocking chair that rocks by itself.” It would frighten Anita and me. We’d run and tell Granddad to come see. He’d say, “Oh, that’s just Fred coming to visit.” Like it was no big deal.
We’d ask who Fred was, and he’d say, “That’s my brother. He lived with us after he became ill and passed away in this room. That rocking chair was his favorite. Every once in a while, he likes to come and rock.”
It was unnerving to believe that an uncle would come to visit so he could rock in his favorite chair. Every time it happened, we would scream, “This house is haunted,” and run. I guess he liked watching television while he rocked because they were in the same room.
So now, between the lightning striking us if we made a sound and an uncle coming to visit, we believed the house was really haunted. We were scared and couldn’t sleep. Looking tired, Granddad asked what the problem was. When we told him, he laughed, saying, “Girls, you shouldn’t be frightened of the dead. They can’t hurt you; those living are the ones who can hurt you.” He also said, “Quiet as kept, lightning won’t look for you if you make a sound, but it can strike the house. But you girls shouldn’t worry; it hasn’t happened in a while.” My sister and I looked at each other because his words really didn’t make us feel better.
The grandparents went to bed at 9:00 p.m. and woke at 4:00 a.m. They expected everyone in the house to be up, dressed, and ready for breakfast by 6:00 a.m.
At home during the summer, we were allowed to sleep until noon since we stayed up until dawn watching television. Down here, we weren’t allowed to stay up late, and getting up early felt like child abuse until we got used to it.
I will always be grateful for our grandparents. They gave us incredible life lessons.
My view regarding the church was changed because of them. Their church members were warm and loving. Visiting them helped wash away my negative feelings toward the church.
They helped me see that church shouldn’t be about the people who attend it. Granddad said, “People will fail you, but God never will. Focus on serving and worshipping Him.”
We visited them almost every summer, and it was priceless.
We watched as they took us swimming, camping, and to church picnics. There were cookouts, Sunday dinners, and much more. We hardly did any of those things living in New York. Life was carefree in the south where they lived.
My sister and I rarely fought when we were with them. We weren’t friends, but she was friendlier. We didn’t have to compete for their attention. They showed love to us both equally. They weren’t too busy making a living as our parents had to. They made memories that last a lifetime.
I wish I could hug them both and never let go.
They have been gone for about five years now. Our grandmother passed away first, and a couple of months later, our granddad. They are greatly missed. They were also our best friends. We could call and tell them anything and trust that they wouldn’t tell our parents if we asked them not to. We respected the sound advice that they always gave. We didn’t mind talking to either one. We loved our grandmother dearly, but our granddad was equally awesome.
The angel asks what the lesson of this visit is.
It reminds me that life is precious, and I should live it to the fullest, making memories with those I love. Staying angry with loved ones causes anguish; it’s not worth it. Being too busy to enjoy life isn’t worth it, either. When we look up, our time has run out.
He nods in agreement, looking pleased.
It is time to return to the hospital.
My parents and sister are in the room. They laugh and remember the old days while my mom holds my hand. I enjoy listening to them.
It is pretty wild that they have no idea that they have been visiting with an empty shell of a body.
The angel stands in the corner of the room, smiling at us.