Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Once my life had seemed as content as theirs appeared to be. My chest ached with that loss. I had not been prepared for either loss but then are people ever ready to lose those they love?
Glancing back at the house so full of my Gran’s things but empty because she was no longer here. Her gentle calming voice would never again be here as my source of comfort. I would never awake to the smell of her cooking.
Without her here, this place wasn’t the same, yet it was where I hoped to find myself once again.
Henley,
I know this letter is going to upset you and that is not why I am sending it. Life happens and if we go through life pretending like it’s all roses then when we end up in a pile of shit, we can’t dig our way out. I do not live my life expecting roses. I live it tending to the gardens that could possibly produce those roses.
Now, if this Covid gets me, I need you to finish all my business for me. The list I’ve sent you is in order. When I’m gone please carry out my wishes in the order I wrote them. If I beat this virus, then I expect to see you in June just like we talked about. Except this time, you’re making me breakfast. I want to try these new muffins you’ve come up with and that granola you told me about.
I love you, my sweet girl and know that you brought joy into my life from the moment you entered this world and every second after. I may have made some mistakes but I did what I thought was best at the time. Your mother never made it all easy but she loves you too and means well.
Love always and forever,
Gran
One
The gulf breeze was the only relief from the relentless heat. I reached up and adjusted my sun hat before picking up the last box of Gran’s clothing to load in my car. This was number one on her list- take all the clothing in her closet to the church donation center.
When Gran had tested positive for Covid she sat down and made a list. It was the things she wanted me to do for her if she didn’t survive. The list had come in the mail the day after she had been admitted into the hospital. I had been mad about that list. Mad because she had even considered she wouldn’t survive. Mad because I could not lose her too. Mad because this list was another reminder of how precious and fleeting life could be.
Walking down the stairs, I took the box to pack it into my silver Mini Cooper she had given me when I graduated high school. Gran had wanted all her clothing to be taken to her church. They had a program for those in need and it ran solely on the donations of the community. It had been the first thing on Gran’s list. Which did not surprise me in the least. Gran had spent her life volunteering in homeless shelters, nursing homes, and food banks. It had been at one of these volunteer efforts that Gran had contracted Covid. She had been wearing her mask and keeping the proper six-feet distance. I had spoken to her just that morning; she’d called to tell me she had her first vaccine scheduled for that Monday. When Monday came, so had Gran’s fever.
I sat the box down on the sandy grass and opened the car door. I managed to shove the box into the back seat but getting the door to close was another thing. Just as I was leaning on the door about to try using all my body weight to get it closed, an old blue Ford truck slowed and then stopped right in the middle of the road, blocking Gran’s driveway. I paused and stared at the truck, but I was unable to see much with the sun in my eyes. My sun hat had once again been blown back too far on my head with the strong gulf breeze and it was doing little to block the glare.
While squinting, I could make out a tall male, young, dark curly hair, and a nice deep tan that I was envious of standing a few feet away from me.
“Need some help?” he asked and I noticed he lacked a drawl. The kind you expect in the south, a thick accent unlike any other. Even in Chattanooga, it was something that was common place in our accent. This guy didn’t have one. I glanced up at his truck again and thought how odd that seemed. He was a prime candidate for a thick southern drawl.
“Uh,” I finally managed to say because he had caught me off guard. “Sure, thanks,” I added. Still unable to see him clearly due to the brightness of the relentless sun. He came toward me and when he was close enough I stepped away and let him wrestle with the last box.