Easter Eggs

    They'd always snuggle, before bed. Wrapped in his arms, not one year ago, she breathed the smell of his cologne, and to a background of fading classical music on NPR, admitted she was scared.

    "John," she began, "I just hate to think that there could ever come a day when I'd have to fall asleep without your arms around me."

    "Well, Maxine, I want to keep you happy...

You'll just have to die first!"

    They fell asleep, laughing.

***********************************************************************

    Not even five months have passed since my last visit home, but she looks older now, more dependent on her cane. I dash to her side in the Washington summer heat, enveloped by the humidity and basking in the frivolous delight of a white sundress. They would often sit here together and take in the sun. Her wedding ring still shimmers, though her eyes are tinged with a painful nostalgia. In younger years and colder weather, I poetically proclaimed that Grandmom sparkles like the Christmas tree. Vying to keep the title, she pulls her cashmere sweater more tightly closed as I approach, attempting a smile and ignoring the 90 degree heat, visibly struck by the chill of his absence instead.

    She looks over at my calling, brightened by my voice. I plop down excitedly on the bench built for two, pulling her down with me, greeting her hurriedly as I race into a million details of my red-eye flight and plans for the weekend... a distracted, dizzy haze of random thoughts. I throw my words around playfully, determined to keep her fixated on anything else, like a small child blowing soap bubbles and begging his parents to watch them pop in mid air. She often complains that I talk too fast, but I refuse to slow down, convinced the effort expended on comprehension will keep her on her feet - proving she doesn't really need that hearing aid, after all. What should I wear? You know better than anyone, as a Southern Belle yourself. Pink? Blue? Ruffled? Subdued? I can't wear white and black's too solemn. Red's a little racy and you know you can never look better than the bride. How about my hair? Up? Down? It's a Southern Christian wedding. They're reading the Corinthians. How does it go, again? Love is patient, love is difficult, love is hard to find...

    The same tar heel accent my Grandfather must have fallen for so many years ago emerges gracefully, and she corrects me, laughing. "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts..."

    Aha! Kind, not difficult. I knew I was screwing it up somewhere... Reciting the lines over in my head, I lose myself in reflection for a moment, drifting off somewhere, anywhere, on a pink inflatable floatie on Lake Barcroft, giggling somewhere on the family pier, mentally removing myself from the sterility of this retirement home. I picture her bringing us wheat thins and cheddar cheese by the backyard lanterns, sitting down to swing gently with Grandpa as they beckon me to come inside.

***********************************************************************

     "John and I were married 57 and a half years."

    Mission get Grandmom's mind on a different subject fail.

    Unsure of what to say, of how to guide her through this, I stretch my legs wide in front of me and bend over, placing my head between them in a semi-Yogi pose I'm sure I learned somewhere... convenient for pulling off the un-dainty immaturity of a 13 year old while effectively hiding one's tears. Dirty blond hair flipped upside down, temporary bronzer mixed with salty water staining my hands. On day 3, our Unitarian Universalist God made waterproof mascara, and with his strength, I re-emerge to listen to her speak. He comes to her in dreams, she says. Oh, two to three times a week, or so...

     "And how I treasure those dreams."
   
    He spoke to her last night. Placing my head against her shoulder, I clasp her hand between both my own and grant her the space to keep speaking, asking her silently what he said, not sure I'm ready for the answer.

    "I have to, John, I have to!" she shouts. The jerk of her shoulder jolts my head to attention, the sudden gesture hurts my neck and I let out a brief cry of pain. I blame the tears on my jet-lag and try to absorb what she just said, to let her finish.

    He had asked if her if she could. Fall asleep without him. Without his arms around her.

    I await the humorous ending that accompanies so many of their stories. The witty denial of circumstances and appreciation of shortcomings that was unique to his outlook on life, essential to pushing us through. But it doesn't come. The strong determination in her voice has never felt so searing, her acceptance so sure. Without Granddaddy there to help, I let my eyes wander and contemplate the concrete awning above us, the bushes around us, the driveway in front of us, convinced he left a punchline hiding here somewhere.

    My vision is blurred and hers fading, but just like the impossible Easter Egg on a warm spring day, I promise her we'll find it.

Comments

[guillaume]

A priceless moment that I can so easily imagine, one reason is my remembers and the other one is that you share it with such a telented writting manner!
Thanks so much for giving me those feelings that I can compare (just my opinion) to those given by reading the stories of "unexpected earth".
Please write a book one day, live your dream sooner or later but live it!
sweet kisses :)

[Alicia l'Américaine]

Aw. That comment makes me especially happy as I adore Jhumpa Lahiri... but you know that. ;)

[Jpcraan]

Did you write this? It's really well written. Great extensive use of vocabulary. I think you should write a book someday. I would definitely read it

[Alicia l'Américaine]

Thanks for commenting Jpcraan! I'd love to write a book. :) Getting published is one of my long-term goals in life, but I've still got quite a bit to learn...

[Moomy]

Alicia...
I just read this. Thank you through tears. I lived every second on the bench with you and G'mom through your writing this. You captured every gesture, you see my mom through love and through truth, which you have it seems from the first day she came with G'dad to see you in the hospital at two days old.
Your birth created a new bond betwee me and my mom in my heart, mother to mother. You were the perfect fifth when me and daddy, and G'mom and G'dad were together -- joy.
You were the Easter egg, the rebirth of our family.
mommy

[Elliptical reviews]

No offense, but if there's a facebook like button, it'll be much easier for me to share.