Kudos to you, Stephanie of BeKindRewrite for the amazing prompts for Inspiration Monday VI. Thank you!
WHISPERS FROM THE CASKET
The familiar scent of the B&M factory wafted past my nostrils and into my memory. It was a short eleven months ago this baked bean bouquet greeted me. My small home town was where a working man’s dream was a life beyond blue collar. Gram Helen had taken me in her arms and smothered my cheeks with her warm kisses, so glad to see me. Dearest Gram. Could I ever love anyone more?
Today is bittersweet. I am in a cab holding my husband’s hand, with my unborn child, our daughter, somersaulting in utero, all three of us heading to the funeral home. This is my Gram Helen’s day. It is a celebration of her life, a life well lived.
She gave me all good things. If I close my eyes and think back I can still hear her beautiful off-key voice as she held my hand, caressing my long hair and singing with all her heart those generations-old songs. If these eyes squeeze even tighter I can see the two of us, together on her big flowered couch crocheting up a storm. My young hands always watched her knotted arthritic hands and the magic they produced. One little six inch mass of mixed up and tangled yarn from me resulted in ooh’s and aah’s from her adoring eyes.
The cab pulls up. We step out. There to greet me is my mother. She smiles, lightly hugs me and the thought faintly crosses my mind ‘Who said vodka doesn’t smell?’ Her first words to me are “So, Rose, do you think the clouds are getting a little lower now?” I kiss her cheek and tell her she looks good. Mom will never change. She rarely uses my given name, instead preferring Rose Colored Glasses. I saw the good in everyone. She saw the opposite. But it worked out. We lived two doors down from Gram and when mom was gone for long periods of time having ‘fun’, Gram and I were cuddling and having fun, too. My heart was able to beat to a normal rhythm because of the two-door-down life we kept. Forever grateful I will be.
So many people surround me, hug me, kiss me, tell me how much they loved her, how she helped when they were beyond help, how her sense of humor made them laugh, how they could tell her anything and she would understand. On and on, the stories don’t stop. I am so grateful their love for her is as endearing as mine. What better testimony to a life well lived!
I gather courage, swallow and walk up to her casket. I see a smile there, a bit different from the smile I knew so well, a man-made smile, and I look closer. I imagine her soft whisper. Her whisper is saying, ”You were the joy of my life, from my very own you came, not quite once-removed, my flesh and blood. Don’t ever forget you are mine and you are loved…dearly loved, my little alpha girl.”
I nod to the director. I am ready. I reach into my jacket pocket for my notes. I look at the words. I don’t need these. I put them away. My Gram Helen always loved me from her heart. I will use my heart to speak. I look out at them all, faces with stories, all of them, looking back at me with anticipation. I smile at her memory and I begin.
“We are here today to honor the life of an extraordinary woman. She was not the CEO of a multibillion dollar company, not educated at an Ivy League school. She didn’t discover a great scientific breakthrough and was not a famous writer or artist. What she did was far more important than all those things combined.
She loved me, a little girl, spent her precious time with me, and taught me how to grow up to love others, to be kind, productive, help when there was a need. She showed me how to appreciate the gift of life. The words to follow epitomize my Gram and the first time I read them I thought the writer knew her personally. Years later I learned differently, but they still fit her to a tee. They are taken from 1Corinthians 13:4-8, from the Bible, her favorite book.
“’Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends’”.
The cab ride back to the airport was contemplative. My husband glanced over at me then put his gentle hand on the life growing inside me. I stroked his forehead then covered his hand with mine. We felt her movement at the same time. Our eyes met and locked. Little Helena would know her namesake. Helen with an a, our little alpha girl, the beginning of love.
4/10/11 for Inspiration Monday VI prompts from BeKindRewrite
I love the imagery; I love the closeness of the tone. I feel like I know Gram.
We all know someone’s Gram who was like this, even if it wasn’t our own, don’t we!
Thank you for your kind words!
(And my goal this week is to learn how to link from my blog story to your blog. Guess I have my homework cut out for me.) HA.
[…] Char’s now on her own blog at MyWordsWhisper (<both links are prompt pieces) […]
Oh, so beautiful. I love the ending and my favorite line is “…I can still hear her beautiful off-key voice as she held my hand, caressing my long hair and singing with all her heart those generations-old songs.” You can really feel the love between Gran and granddaughter. Plus, without saying much, you can really feel the unhappy relationship between mother and daughter. Wonderful piece, thank you.
I’m glad you caught the unhappy mother-daughter relationship. I purposely put it in because it made her relationship with Gram that much more important in her life.
And many of us have wonderful memories of our grandmothers and grandfathers. Life would have been very different for many if they hadn’t been around.
Thanks for your nice comments and support.
Lovely story.
Thank you Patti. So glad you enjoyed it. We both wrote about Grams this week, just in a different way!
Thanks for visiting!
I love this bit: “Little Helena would know her namesake. Helen with an a, our little alpha girl, the beginning of love.” It really shows how close the relationship was 🙂
Thank you for visiting and for commenting. I knew Little Helena would be very loved, too!
Your writing is wonderful. I enjoy it!
[…] Char’s now on her own blog at MyWordsWhisper (<both links are prompt pieces) […]