My grandmother had taken life by the horns and maybe she’d wanted to ride out of it softly. Either way, I liked to think she chose it. She’d always been able to steer things her way. Why not death?
I’d taken one breath, two breaths, and then maybe fifty more as I stood over her the next morning.
In the end, we’d planned out her funeral, wake, how she’d wanted to be spread across the beach. Or maybe that was for me but, either way, we’d agreed on everything.
It was all planned perfectly.
Except what I would do the day it happened.
I was alone and the only sound in her room was my breath, not hers. The gulls outside, the waves and their rhythm with my breathing.
Not hers.
Just mine.
Life was too quiet without her rattling breaths. The room was so empty with just my own.
The sun shone into the window as if mocking me and I turned the bracelets on my wrist for far too long before deciding to call the non-emergency line.
They came right away, much like if I’d called 911.
Yet, no sirens. No sound.
Maybe that was the benefit of a small town. The sheriff pulled me in for a hug. He’d heard from the non-emergency call and decided to come with. He told me to swing by the tiki bar later, that he’d tell Bradley to have a drink waiting for me.
I didn’t go.
I sat in that empty house and listened to the new silence.
I was silent when I cried that night too.
The night after.
The night after that.
Complete quiet except for the rhythm of my breathing and the rhythm of the waves.
We worked together to get me through those hard days.
Losing my grandmother was like losing my life. She’d been both of my parents for so long. When they’d passed, she’d stepped in.
She’d always stepped in, even when they’d still been there.
Losing her was bigger, more detrimental, and much more heart wrenching.
I’d planned for it all but I couldn’t plan for the pain and for the loss of myself.
So many gifts came over those next few days. Flowers and more flowers and pies and food, as if I wanted to eat and have a nice-smelling house.
I set it all in the house next to the urn I had to hold on to until the funeral.
I ignored calls and the doorbell ringing until that day.
It was the day I had to pull on my big girl dress and face the music.
The world still turned and grandma was gone even if I didn’t want her to be.
The funeral home was small and dark. It was not a place my grandmother would have ever enjoyed. I didn't enjoy it either, not with the fabric of the wooden chairs yellowed and worn like so many people had come to say goodbye to their loved ones and sat in those same spots.
So much pain.
So much death.
Over the past few days, a beating had started in my soul. Angry. Sad. If you could imagine a drum of death and darkness, that was exactly how it sounded. Sometimes the thump was so roaring, it sounded just like thunder, so loud in my ears I couldn't hear anything else. Maybe it was my heart.
It went up and down, up and down like the ocean, like my breath.
“Morina.” Bradley’s hand on my shoulder made me jump. He yanked it away and winced. “Sorry.”
“No, no.” I shook my head to try to right myself. “It’s fine. I’m just on edge today.”
“As you should be. It’s a hard burden to carry yourself,” he blurted out and then immediately followed up with, “I mean, not by yourself. We’re all here.”
“Of course you are.” I patted his back and kissed him on the cheek. His kind eyes searched my face. Bradley would have provided me comfort any other day, his muscular frame always dwarfing mine and making me feel protected. Today, though, no one could protect me from the grief.
He hesitated from saying anything more and I squinted at his awkwardness. “Don’t tiptoe, Bradley. It was never your strong suit.”
He sighed but his shoulders relaxed a little. “It’s a hell of a day, Mo. Everyone’s going to walk on eggshells around you.”
I turned and found the whole town piling into the funeral home. “Don’t I know it,” I mumbled.
I gripped my bracelets, one a deep, earthy green color with spots of bold red. Bloodstone for courage and bravery. I wore another made of howlite for patience and compassion. I’d also slid a rose quartz crystal in my black dress’s pocket. I would grip it when I needed the confidence and calm that I surely wouldn’t feel today.
People filled the seats, bustling around the empty spaces, and most of them weren’t just idly talking. They moved flowers around, waving in others, hugging the ones who cried, laughing with the ones who shared memories.
The town was a family, and I smiled because grandma had been a big part of it.
The director came to talk over logistics, but Grandma had said she wanted a speech from the priest, nothing from me, and wanted one thing played before they ended the ceremony.
Nothing from me. A part of her probably always wanted me to do nothing. She’d never ever wanted to be a burden. Today, more than any other day, I appreciated that.
I sat next to Bradley and he put his arm around me while the priest spoke of Grandma’s love for the town, the work she and my grandfather had done, and how every moment spent with her was a joy.
Everything he said, people nodded along.
I didn’t let a tear escape as he talked. I’d cry alone in the silence tonight.
Today, I’d let the town cry for her instead.
The priest announced that there was one song she’d chosen and motioned for the funeral director to play it.
Grandma hadn’t let me know this part but as the beat started up, I think I was the first to chuckle.
We’d always played Eminem and requested it just to irritate patrons of the tiki bar. When, “Without Me” started to play, I couldn’t help but laugh.
The words were absolutely ridiculous and those who knew them started laughing too.
We sang along, and the tears that streamed down my face were happy ones.
When it ended, the funeral director hurried forward but I stopped him. “I just want to say one thing.”
My breath shook as I took it in. “I’m not good with words. We all know I’m mercurial by nature. I’m a product of my parents, right?”
Most of them laughed at my joke.
“Maybe my grandma was a little perturbed with my mom marrying a guy that bent with the wind. And when the accident took them, I think she was a little mad even. Still, she never bent to anything, the wind, the water, this town could have tried to push her and she would have stood her ground. We were lucky to have that, I think.”
I took a shaky breath and tried to smile instead of cry. I caught Bradley’s eye and he nodded for me to continue. “We knew we could count on her in anything. Bradley even counted on her to take down more moonshine in the tiki bar than anyone else. I’m pretty sure she made you thousands with the bets you won every time a businessman stopped into town.”
Everyone laughed at that.
“I guess we all know with me, you can’t do that. I’m always doing my own thing.”