We’d planned for me to go to college, but I couldn’t leave home right after high school. My grandparents had raised me, and when Grand died during my senior year, my grandmother needed me. I loved her and didn’t want to lose her, but the honest truth was, I didn’t think she’d last as long as she did. Grand’s death had been hard on her, and I’d already grieved for her, too, almost in tandem with the loss of my grandfather. She’d either get better or she wouldn’t, and, at this point, I wasn’t seeing a recovery on the horizon. One year, I thought.
Gran herself didn’t think she had more than a few months left in her. She made me promise that when she passed, I’d go on to college. The high school guidance counselor warned me I was making a mistake. She said the grants and scholarships wouldn’t wait forever. But a person has to do what they can live with. Meanwhile, Mildred Harkin, Gran’s longtime friend and nurse, had dropped by, as usual, to check on Gran and deliver her medications, and she’d realized my dilemma.
I sat on the sofa while Mildred checked Gran’s heart rate and blood pressure. Gran’s bed was in the living room. We’d moved it there after Grand died. The tiny bedroom in the back of the house had been mine for most of my life, but without Grand, my grandmother said she’d rather have my small bed moved into the living room. She’d be near the direct warmth of the woodstove and handier to the kitchen. She insisted I take the larger front bedroom with the big bed. Gran tended to be cold, and now a widow, she preferred to trade privacy for more warmth than a couple of quilts could provide.
Mildred arranged the blanket across Gran’s legs and gathered her doctor’s bag and sweater. She came over to the sofa.
“Can I speak with you, Hannah?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I stood out of courtesy.
She touched my arm, signaling me to follow her. As we went out the front door, she called back into the house, “Clara, I’ll drop the ointment by tomorrow. Be sure to use it. It will help with the soreness in your shoulder and knees. And make sure you take your water pills like you’re supposed to.”
Mildred had gray eyes and gray hair. She didn’t wear nurse’s garb, though. She dressed like a neighbor come to call, except for the old-style doctor bag she carried. The casual clothing and their longtime acquaintance were probably why Gran tolerated the intrusion of personal questions, stethoscopes, thermometers, and such.
I walked with Mildred from the porch and into the yard, suddenly anxious. No matter how set you thought you were about losing a loved one, you were never really ready.
“How’s Gran?”
“About the same, dear, but I want to talk about you, if you don’t mind.” She nodded toward the driveway where she was parked, and I followed her. When we were well away from the house, she stopped again.
“So you’re staying home? Not going off to college after all?”
“Yes.”
Mildred sighed. “You have a right to your own life. You should consider what’s best for your future.”
I tilted my head. I could hear her words, but I didn’t get where she was going with this. “Sure, but what would happen to Gran? She can’t manage on her own. She took Grand’s death hard.”
Mildred put her bag on the front seat of her car, gave me a long look, then patted my shoulder. “I understand. She may recover somewhat. She may not. Time will tell. The fact is her heart isn’t getting better, and the edema will continue. If we could convince her to go to the doctor, the hospital, and get treatment that could make a difference.”
I shook my head, knowing Gran would never go, but asked anyway, “Would that cure her?”
“No, honey, it wouldn’t. It might improve her situation, though. It’s worth a try.”
I looked back toward the house. “She’d never go. You know she hasn’t left the Hollow in many years.”
“Please encourage her to consider it.” She touched my forearm and held my gaze. “In the meantime, you need to move on with your own plans. College. We could find someone to stop in and help her on a regular basis, or maybe it’s time for her to go live elsewhere.”
Elsewhere? Put Gran in a nursing home? I was shocked.
“You shouldn’t have to bear this alone. You’re so young.”
“We do fine.” I stood taller. “We have everything we need here. What we don’t have is brought in. Grand arranged the deliveries long before he died. Plus, I have his car and can get about as I need.”
“Unfortunately, Hannah, you have to face reality. Your grandmother is going to need more care than you can give her no matter how willing you are or how much you want to help her.”
I tried to find the right words. I knew the truth of what she was saying, but I also knew the truth of what could be, and what couldn’t ever be, not in a million years.
Mildred patted my arm again. “Close your mouth, dear. No need to look horrified. Think about what I’ve said. Accepting and dealing with reality can be hard, but moving a person to where they’ll get the care they need can be a good thing. Sometimes it’s the only choice we have. You need to figure out how long you can live this way and how much you’re capable of handling.” She shook her head. “I’ll leave it for now. If you get in too deep here, you let me know. I’ll help you figure something out.”
She gave me a quick hug. “I admire your love and loyalty. I see it often when loved ones are sick or dying. But people take on too much and don’t understand they can’t fix everything for a loved one, that sometimes their paths must part.”
She waved her hands. “We’ll talk about it again. Meanwhile, I’d like you to get out. You need a break from time to time, and it won’t hurt Clara to be on her own for part of the day. You don’t need to hover.”
“I’ve been thinking about finding a part-time job, maybe earn some money because I’m definitely going to college next year. By then, Gran will be better or . . . not, but I have to give her this year. She gave the last eighteen to me.”
Mildred shook her head. “Hannah, you are one of the most reasonable, practical people I know, but you’re very young. I worry you won’t recognize when things get beyond your ability to manage or mend.”
She opened the driver’s side door. “It’s good to have plans and goals. I have a friend who cleans houses—mostly light housework—and from time to time she needs help. Would you be interested? It would get you out a bit and give you a little money to set aside for school, yet still give you time to be here and do the things you enjoy, like your gardening and pottery.”
I had to admit the idea of leaving the Hollow on occasion appealed to me, and cleaning houses would be easy work.
“I’d be willing to talk to your friend. See what we can work out.”
Still looking worried but somewhat reassured, Mildred left.
Gran expressed misgivings when I explained the house-cleaning plan.