Her Last Wish

Her Last Wish - Chapter Thirty

Her Last Wish
Chapter Thirty
Sang
(Monday)

I ate pancakes with Luke and Victor before leaving for the cemetery. I picked up four bunches of roses this time and made sure to lay some with my mother before visiting with my Grandad's.

My skin flushed as I remembered the week before. It seems so long ago now. So much has happened in just one week that I take a moment of quiet to process before heading to the hospital to see Nan.

I'm actually looking forward for Nan too come home. I'm sick and tired of the scent of bleach, of walking the same path and the white walls. I know that she's coming home to die, so I do wonder about my own sanity and how it's possible to look forward to her return home. I've thought more about it since yesterday. Yes it's sad, but being in her own house, with her own things is how it should be. It brings me a sense of peace, for now.

I help Nan bathe, eat lunch with her and sit and watch some TV. I'm just drinking a coffee when she asks, "Can we talk about my funeral?"

No, not really. Of course that's not what I say out loud. "If you would like to."

I avoid her eyes and stare at the small TV screen. "It's all paid for."

"I know. You said the same thing the last time we had to have this conversation."

She sighs. "But that was a fifty-fifty chance. That was in the early stages of my cancer and treatment. This time it's different, pretty girl."

I echo her sigh with one of my own, finally bringing my gaze to hers. "I'm aware," I whisper, smiling sadly. "Tell me what you want and I'll make it happen that way."

"I don't want black clothing. I want it to be bright, and beautiful."

"Just like you," I tell her. She rolls her eyes but grins. "Would you like a particular colour?"

"No. Just bright happy colours."

"Okay. Do you still want red roses?"

She snorts which is followed by a cough. "Yes. Red Roses and a horse and carriage"

"Done."

"No we're not. We still have music. I know what I would like one of my songs to be." I raise an eyebrow at her in question. "Elton John's Candle in The Wind, Nineteen-Ninety-Seven."

My mouth pops open. "Nan, you can't. That's the song for Princess Diana."

She pouts. "But it's my favourite. Your grandads said that it was the perfect song for me."

It's been so long since I even heard that song that I can't remember the lyrics. It's not a song you just pop onto your Spotify playlist. "What about the other version?"

"It's not right."

"Is it even allowed? That song was written by Elton John himself for Princess Diana."

"I don't know. I just like it and I think it's perfect."

I make a mental note to look into it. "Any other requests?"

"No. The rest is up to you. You already know I would like to be buried."

"As we're on a serious subject, let's talk about another thing that's bothering me." I stand from the chair I had been sitting on and go to her bed, sitting on it sideways. "The house."

"It will be yours, along with everything else that I own, any money I have in my accounts. Everything is yours."

"I just want the house, Nan. I don't care about that other stuff, as long as I can keep the house that has always been yours. But how can it possibly be mine with my ghost bird status?" I would rather lose the house if it meant I could keep her but I know that isn't possible, so the house I'll keep. I probably won't ever change how it is, but I hope that by keeping the house it will offer me comfort, like a blanket.