A Convergence of Words...: Short Story: Grandpa

Saturday, October 29, 2022

Short Story: Grandpa

Grandpa

“Let her wear it,” my grandmother says wearily. “Someone should get some use out of it now.”

Without saying a word my mother pulls the nightshirt over my head. It’s far too big for a five year old, but I want to wear it. It’s my grandfather’s nightshirt. My mother moves to the bed and starts to pull the blankets back.

“Shouldn’t she sleep upstairs with us?” she asks.

“No,” says my grandmother. “She can sleep here. There’s no use letting a bed go empty.”

I climb into the bed and my mother tucks the blankets around me. My grandmother kisses me on the forehead and tells me good night. Her eyes are very sad. She follows my mother out of the room, turning off the light and pulling the door closed behind her.

“I don’t think she should sleep in there, Mom. That’s Dad’s room,” my mother says.

“She’s causing him no disrespect by being in there, Emelind. She’s fine. Leave it be. It’s been a long enough day without you going on about this,” my grandmother replies.

My grandmother is right. It has been a long day. A long day spent at Our Lady of Grace Hospital being told to hush, sit still, don’t touch anything, and don’t ask questions. Especially, don’t ask where Grandpa is or when you can see him. I still don’t understand why Mom burst into tears when I asked if I could see him. Everyone is so sad but no one will say why.

My grandmother tells my mother good night and goes into her bedroom and closes the door. My mother turns out the hall light as she goes upstairs. I can hear my grandmother crying softly. The house slowly quiets. I drift off to sleep.

The door creaks. The sound breaks my light sleep. I pretend to be asleep. If it’s my mother checking on me, I don’t want to get yelled at for still being awake. The door creaks again. The house is very quiet.

Do I peek? Will she see if I peek?

It’s too quiet. My curiosity emboldens me. I peek.

Grandpa!

He stands silently at the end of the bed with a peaceful, content look on his face. He reaches out and pats my foot, as he always does when he checks on me. Without saying a word, he turns and leaves the room.

I jump out of bed and quickly follow him, but I can’t see where he’s gone. He’s not in the hall, the kitchen, or the living room. Where did he go?

My grandmother hears me in the hallway and comes out of her room. It’s obvious she hasn’t been to sleep yet.

“Is everything ok, Lily?” she asks me.

“I saw Grandpa, Grandma. He was in my room, but now I can’t find him,” I reply.

She gives me a puzzled look. “That can’t be, Lily. You were dreaming. Let’s get you back into bed” she says.

She takes my hand and leads me back into the bedroom.

“But Grandma, I can’t sleep in here. Grandpa’s home, and he’ll want to sleep in his bed,” I protest.

Grandma gently smoothes my hair then cups my face in her hand. “Lily, Grandpa is not home. He’s not going to sleep in here any more,” she answers sadly.

“But, I saw him.”

“Sweetheart, Grandpa died this afternoon.”

*Public domain image obtained from http://www.wpclipart.com/.