Her Last Wish

Her Last Wish - Chapter Twenty

Her Last Wish
Chapter Twenty
Sang
(Monday)
Mature content!

One week ago, I was at work, teaching a bunch of seven year olds all math problems completely oblivious to what the next coming week had planned for me. Nothing could have prepared me for how the week had gone. Meeting the guys, learning of Nan's illness, seeing more and more of the Academy around me. That's why I rang Lorraine when I woke this morning and explained to her that for now, I couldn't return to work. When I had managed to choke out the reason why, and once I had hung up the call, I mentally gave myself a pat on the back for keeping my composure. Then I let the tears fall.

I don't want to cry, but it's like I can't help it. At least these ones didn't have me sobbing uncontrollably into my pillow. Just a few sniffles and maybe a whimper of pain as my heart clenched.

Afterwards, I got myself out of bed, showered, dressed, had breakfast and then got into my car before going to Nan's favourite flower shop. Every Monday, without fail, Nan would go to my grandfathers' graves to lay them some flowers, Red Roses, of course. Before I had left the hospital yesterday, she had asked me to do this for her today so that's what I'm going to do.

I don't go to my Grandfathers' graves often. I actually hate going because all it does is bring back the memories of losing them. Grandad Ronnie died in his sleep when I was twelve years old. I will never forget the cry that left Nan that day. The whole morning was a blur, but that cry, it still haunts me when I think about it. After Ronnie's dead body had been taken, we sat in our family room staring at the walls, cuddled up together, wondering what to do next. I had never experienced death and grief before, so I didn't understand how to handle it.

The first thing Nan had done the next day was purchase several plots at the graveyard, four plots to be exact. She knew what she wanted, so she did it, Bernie and Joey eagerly agreeing with whatever she said and suggested.

Grandad Ronnie's funeral was the first one I had ever attended. Nan had let their Academy family and any friends they had made over the years come and pay their respects, while I hid away in the church, out of sight, watching as so many people laid down flowers on the gravesite on a cold January afternoon from the window. Once they had left, I stood next to Nan, holding her hand, while the remaining two men in our lives comforted us as we said our final goodbyes.

The summer before I turned fourteen, Grandad Joey had a stroke. He didn't die right away, he was put into a coma after he was rushed to hospital, but the bleeding on his brain was too severe and was only getting worse. He had a second stroke while in the coma. In the end, it was just the machine that was keeping him alive and between Bernie and Nan, they decided to turn it off. Joey's funeral was much like Ronnie's. I hid in the church, watching from the window as people came to pay their respects and lay down flowers before leaving. Once the coast was clear, I stood next to my Grandad Bernie, looking at the coffin that belonged to Joey, and then at the gravesite that belongs to Ronnie, and all I can remember thinking that day was that one day, I will be standing there by myself.

It was a thought I pushed away until Grandad Bernie died of a heart attack two years later. Much the same happened when it came to his funeral. The only thing that was different was the number of people that stood at the graveside as the coffin was lowered into the ground. I remember looking at Nan that day, begging her silently to not leave me. When she was diagnosed with the cancer shortly after Bernie died, I thought that would be it, but each day my determination grew. I wasn't losing my last living relative.

I nursed Nan throughout all of her chemotherapy. I made sure she ate and drank plenty, and got plenty of sleep. I took care of the house, helped her bathe, took her to hospital appointments. I put everything but school on hold, because I was determined and stubborn. When she got the all clear, the weight I had been carrying on my shoulders was lifted and all I had felt was relief, because she had fought, because I had helped her, looked after her, loved her. Some part of me felt I had kept her alive, kept her stubborn and sassy self here with me, where she needs to be.