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I stood there, holding a large seashell, smiling a toothless smile. My grandmother was behind me, looking like a super model with her big smile and gigantic bug-like black sunglasses that she always loved to wear.
I reached for the picture and studied it.
Then I looked around the bedroom.
It still smelled like her.
That subtle hint of her perfume.
I put my head back and looked up to the ceiling.
My eyes filled with tears.
Then I saw a few specs of red staining the ceiling.
“Gram, you can’t be walking around with food in your hand.”
“The hell I can’t. Watch me.”
“You’re using a walker.”
“I know that. I’m thrusting my hips at it to move it. Don’t underestimate these hips, Granddaughter. These hips turned boys into men and made men lose their minds.”
“That’s something I did not need to hear.”
Gram shuffles her way into her bedroom.
I never met a woman so stubborn before.
But what could I say to her?
Nobody in life is ever trained to be told they’re going to die in six months.
(Or the fact that her six months was up three months ago… literally living on borrowed time.)
Gram stops in the middle of the floor in her bedroom.
She’s out of breath.
I know not to point that out to her.
I slowly sneak into the bedroom behind her.
After a few silent seconds pass by, I reach for her right shoulder.
“Hey, Gram.”
Gram lets out the loudest yell I’ve ever heard.
She throws her plate of toast with butter and jelly into the air.
“Holy fucking hell!” she screams.
She spins around, ready to attack me, but she falls forward.
I’m there to catch her.
We both look at each other and start laughing.
