Sinatra & Me (Old Hollywood series, #1) | ON HOLD

03. Guess I'll Hang My Tears Out to Dry

"Angie, I am so sorry about your mother's passing. She will be missed terribly," My old next door neighbor, Patty Jenkins, told my mother. Mom thanked her for coming, then started crying in her embrace.

I leaned over toward Stephanie and whispered, "God, she's a total mess."

"I know, this is awful." She replied somberly.

"I feel so bad. She was my grandma, but she was my mom's MOM. I miss her, of course but... I can't fathom how my mom feels right now."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"Of course I have, Steph. But I can't get through to her."

For the next few minutes or so, Stephanie and I sat on my Grandma's couch, just contemplating everything that's happened. My grandma Meredith died two days ago, she was sick with breast cancer on and off for a long time. She was 61 years old, she wasn't that old at all. Her wake was being held at her house. Like things couldn't be sad enough. My mom prompted us to hold it here, but quite frankly, I think it's most likely making things worse. I looked around the living room, which was filled with old, mahogany furniture that was passed down by my great-great-grandmother. The walls were a deep shade of red and a green and white checkered oriental rug draped the floor beneath our feet. There was no TV or computer in sight. However, there was an old gramophone sitting atop my grandma's desk. She was a music mogul, just like me. We would often get into Bing Crosby vs. Frank Sinatra fights. That's one thing I'll miss the most about her. As I continued looking around, pangs of sadness hit me.

I'm the first to break the silence between my best friend and I, saying, "You know, Steph. It's amazing how short life really is, when you fully realize it. You look at these things people had and see that it's a part of what they wanted and what they wanted to complete how they envisioned their life. These things are parts of what they made of themselves, what they made of their life."

I paused and she took in my words. I continued, "Death of another really makes you contemplate your own mortality, doesn't it?"

"Actually, I was just contemplating this Frank Sinatra quote..."

I smacked her on the arm and said incredulously, "Steph, really?! Of ALL the times to bring up Frank, you choose this one?"

She starts laughing and says, "No, I'm serious! Well, branching off of what you said before, he had this one quote. He said, "I'm not one of those mixed-up cats. I'm not looking for the secret to life. I just go on from day to day, taking what comes." That really strikes a chord, you know? Because, he never worried about what the future would hold. He loved living and taking life as it came. He knew life was short and that every moment meant something. Your grandmother lived that way. I think everybody should live that way."

I could feel my eyes glossing over with unshed tears. "You know, Stephanie Manasculo, you truly amaze me sometimes."

"Oh, I know." We both laugh and hug each other tightly.

"Oh man, I am STARVING. Wanna get some food?"

"Yes, please," I reply.

We get up and head to the fairly large kitchen and grab a couple of plates. Before we knew it, piles of mashed potatoes, chicken fingers, and baked ziti sat on our dishes. We grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge and sat down at the table. My dad come down the stairs (which were in the kitchen and lead to upstairs) holding a large box in his hands.

"Hey, Pop."

He smiles faintly and says, "Hey Stella, hi Stephanie."

He places the box down at the table and Steph chimes, "Whatcha got there, Bill? An atomic bomb?"