Scud Stud (residual_lines) wrote,
Scud Stud
residual_lines

She didn't die alone

There is a stillness in my grandmother's house that hasn't existed in weeks. The makeshift nurse corps of family has finally left the house my grandparents built; allowing it to groan, creak, and sag with the weight of death.

My grandfather is napping, my mother on the porch making calls to family friends.

I write in a full notebook meant to have been emptied with my grandmother's thoughts. It was to allow my grandmother to write the things she couldn't say. She wrote on all of two pages. The first was the call list my mother is currently occupied with. The second simply says what three rings her granddaughters are to receive. She leaves me with her wedding ring, but no last words. I imagine she figured she didn't need to keep a journal. See, words in my family aren't valued, only actions.

My only hope is that she knew that her actions were enough.
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