sleeved top. Ben wrapped my tender left wrist in gauze, which I am to keep on overnight. He gave me a small tube of antibacterial cream to rub on every day for a week and instructed me not to get my “fresh ink” wet. Although I feel kinda cool and can’t wait to show it off to Charlie, I think this one tiny tattoo will be my first and last work of body art.
It’s the last gift I will ever receive from Grandma Rose and it comforts me to know it’ll last a lifetime. I smile. “Thanks Gran,” I say to the air around me. “You will always be a part of my life. I will never forget you and I’ll always love you.”
I text Charlie and tell her about Grandma Rose and my tattoo. She’d already heard I’d fainted after first period and figured it must have been because of something bad. Apparently, I was the talk of the school for the entire afternoon.
Even though I knew she’d be trying to reach me, I’d needed to be out of touch for a while and had turned off my phone. Worrying Charlie was not what I’d intended, and thankfully, she understood. She offers to come over, but I tell her it’s probably best if she doesn’t since I don’t know when my family will be home. Charlie would be uncomfortable in such a highly emotional atmosphere, so sparing her the agony is the least I can do.
I make a cup of tea and this simple act makes tears bloom in my eyes. Will every task, no matter how small, remind me of Grandma Rose for the rest of my life? Will the pain of her loss follow me ’til the day I die?
I curl up on the couch and turn on the TV as a distraction. If only I could turn off my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I see her, my beautiful grandmother, lying in that hospital bed, so tiny and pale. The inevitable advice will be that I should be grateful she lived a long life. She went quickly, without much suffering, they’ll say, but that’s such bullshit. None of that matters. It wouldn’t matter if she were a hundred and eighty; I’d miss her because she took with her my sense of safety in this world. Now, all I feel is fear and anxiety at the fragility of life. I miss her so much my heart actually aches.
The low rumble of the garage door opening alerts me to the fact my family is home. A moment later, the door from the garage to the house opens, and soft voices in conversation spill into the room.
“ Lola?” Mom calls.
“ In here.”
She runs to me and holds out her arms. I bend to her embrace and allow myself to be mothered.
“ Oh, honey, are you okay? Daddy told me what happened.”
Eva walks past with Dad carrying bags into the kitchen. Tears glisten in her usually emotionless eyes.
“ I’m fine.”
“ Where were you?” she asks, breaking our embrace.
“ I had something to do. Are you okay?”
Mom nods unconvincingly. “We were at the funeral home… making arrangements.”
My stomach tightens and bile threatens to rise. I turn away and start for the kitchen.
“ Lola.” Mom stops me in my tracks. “The wake is tomorrow and the funeral the day after. She wanted to be cremated.”
My blood drains to my feet. The idea of Gran being put into the cold, hard ground is bad enough, but the thought of her being burned is just too much. “Thanks for that little tidbit, Mom. I’m not going. I can’t, I won’t see Gran in a coffin.” My lips compress into an unyielding line as I watch my mother’s expression turn from sad to hurt. “And how could you let Grandma Rose be burned? It’s barbaric.”
I leave her and walk into the kitchen where Eva and Dad have spread out Italian take-out on the table.
Eva holds out a plate for me.
“ No thanks. Not hungry.”
She gives it to Mom who’s followed me in. Mom takes it and plunks it down roughly on the counter where its clank grabs our attention. With the kitchen suddenly quiet, she seizes my wrist and turns me roughly to face her. “Don’t you…”
My scream stops her. I yank my arm away, my shriek trails into a moan and I cradle
It’s the last gift I will ever receive from Grandma Rose and it comforts me to know it’ll last a lifetime. I smile. “Thanks Gran,” I say to the air around me. “You will always be a part of my life. I will never forget you and I’ll always love you.”
I text Charlie and tell her about Grandma Rose and my tattoo. She’d already heard I’d fainted after first period and figured it must have been because of something bad. Apparently, I was the talk of the school for the entire afternoon.
Even though I knew she’d be trying to reach me, I’d needed to be out of touch for a while and had turned off my phone. Worrying Charlie was not what I’d intended, and thankfully, she understood. She offers to come over, but I tell her it’s probably best if she doesn’t since I don’t know when my family will be home. Charlie would be uncomfortable in such a highly emotional atmosphere, so sparing her the agony is the least I can do.
I make a cup of tea and this simple act makes tears bloom in my eyes. Will every task, no matter how small, remind me of Grandma Rose for the rest of my life? Will the pain of her loss follow me ’til the day I die?
I curl up on the couch and turn on the TV as a distraction. If only I could turn off my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I see her, my beautiful grandmother, lying in that hospital bed, so tiny and pale. The inevitable advice will be that I should be grateful she lived a long life. She went quickly, without much suffering, they’ll say, but that’s such bullshit. None of that matters. It wouldn’t matter if she were a hundred and eighty; I’d miss her because she took with her my sense of safety in this world. Now, all I feel is fear and anxiety at the fragility of life. I miss her so much my heart actually aches.
The low rumble of the garage door opening alerts me to the fact my family is home. A moment later, the door from the garage to the house opens, and soft voices in conversation spill into the room.
“ Lola?” Mom calls.
“ In here.”
She runs to me and holds out her arms. I bend to her embrace and allow myself to be mothered.
“ Oh, honey, are you okay? Daddy told me what happened.”
Eva walks past with Dad carrying bags into the kitchen. Tears glisten in her usually emotionless eyes.
“ I’m fine.”
“ Where were you?” she asks, breaking our embrace.
“ I had something to do. Are you okay?”
Mom nods unconvincingly. “We were at the funeral home… making arrangements.”
My stomach tightens and bile threatens to rise. I turn away and start for the kitchen.
“ Lola.” Mom stops me in my tracks. “The wake is tomorrow and the funeral the day after. She wanted to be cremated.”
My blood drains to my feet. The idea of Gran being put into the cold, hard ground is bad enough, but the thought of her being burned is just too much. “Thanks for that little tidbit, Mom. I’m not going. I can’t, I won’t see Gran in a coffin.” My lips compress into an unyielding line as I watch my mother’s expression turn from sad to hurt. “And how could you let Grandma Rose be burned? It’s barbaric.”
I leave her and walk into the kitchen where Eva and Dad have spread out Italian take-out on the table.
Eva holds out a plate for me.
“ No thanks. Not hungry.”
She gives it to Mom who’s followed me in. Mom takes it and plunks it down roughly on the counter where its clank grabs our attention. With the kitchen suddenly quiet, she seizes my wrist and turns me roughly to face her. “Don’t you…”
My scream stops her. I yank my arm away, my shriek trails into a moan and I cradle
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