Georgia's Last Words

Chapter Ten

We’re all a sea of black. The dresses, the slacks, the ties, the shirts, the shoes, they’re all black. Our hats have veils that are netted black. White lingers under tightly closed jackets fighting the cold. Smiles hide behind rocks and innocent children. Tears lay on heavily on everyone’s eyes, readying themselves to flood the church at any given moment.

No one is laughing at the good memories. One by one Grams’s friends and family walk to the front of the church and stand at the podium. They tell a story of some crazy adventure, the laugh at the grocery store, or a memory from years ago. They seem unimportant now. 

It’s my turn now. I walk up the couple stairs to the center of the church’s platform. I look out at everyone. The older they are the less tears. Maybe it’s because they’re getting used to death or maybe they are just losing their minds and don’t really know what is going on. 

I take a deep breath and begin my story. “My favorite memory of Grams is from a couple years ago. It was my sixteenth birthday and she came over to the house to have dinner with me and the rest of the family. We sat down outside on the porch swing and she told me one of her famous stories. I remember listening and drifting off into my fantasy world. 

“When she finished, she took my hands into hers. She told me I was beautiful and that I had become such a wonderful young lady. Then she made me promise to keep a secret. I did. I can still see the smile on her face as she pushed a small wrapped box in my hand.

“It was a locket, in fact this locket.” I gesture to the one hanging from my neck. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that she gave it to me before dinner. Presents are always given out after we eat, but she liked to break the rules.” 

The tears well up in my eyes as I say the last sentence. “I loved her so much, and I always will.” The crowd claps, not for me, but for Grams. 

There are a couple more stories before it is time for the viewing. My dad and one of my uncles lean the top of the casket up against the wall. One by one, we line up. All us mourners wrap around the church pews; it’s hard to believe we’re at a funeral. 

The line moves slow, but considering I’m the granddaughter, I get to be at the front of the line. My hands shake, but I can feel Cooper’s presence behind me. I try to remain calm. 

It’s my turn to view Grams. I walk up alongside the coffin and see her pale, cold face. She’s dead. Her beauty is painted on, and there’s no life in the body. It’s Grams, but it isn’t. It is a stone imitation of her. Never alive, never breathing, and never loving. 

Something deep inside me clicks off. Somewhere in my heart, a door locks. Somehow the key to that door is lost outside of me. It has fallen inside the coffin and after the funeral it will be buried six feet deep. 

I kiss this imposter Grams on the cheek and lay my hand on hers, one last time. Feeling eyes on me, I walk off the platform and head for the doors where I saw Mom disappear through minutes ago. 

“Mom, I’m going to leave, okay?” She is crying and my already broken heart shatters. 

She nods. “That’s fine honey. I don’t even think I’m going to the burial. Dad and your uncles are going and making sure all is done. Just come back sometime, okay?”

I hug her tight and kiss her goodbye. “Of course, I’ll be back.”

Cooper is not visible when I go back through the mess in the church of those who still wait to say their final goodbyes. So I head for where my car is parked. I wait for a minute, then I hop inside. The passenger seat seems flimsy, like there is a heavy weight upon my shoulders weighing down the right side of the car.