I always suspected Grandma Alice wasn’t always completely there upstairs. She was getting old though. Alice was paling and withered, like the pages of an old book. Her white hair clung to her skull for dear life and her body was as fragile as an infant’s, but she still had that twinkle in her eyes.
“Back when I was in Wonderland…” she used to start. Then my mother would snap at her.
“Stop filling her head with your non-sense.” my mother would say.
“Oh Ann, it’s just a bit of fun.”
Against my mother’s wishes, she still filled my head with the tales of the magical Wonderland.
“Will you ever go again Grandma?”
“Oh no dear, I’m far too old. But one day you will.”
“Really!” I squealed.
“Yes darling, someday.”
But not before Grandma Alice grew sick. Her tuberculosis crippled her. She grew even paler and more fragile. Her white hair eventually fell from her head, and she even lost that lovely twinkle in her beautiful eyes. The Grandma Alice I knew was gone. She was replaced with a sickly old woman who was on death’s doorstep everyday.
“I’m finally going!” she would spit out between coughing fits.
Finally, my dear Grandmother departed. But something unusual happened. Just before her eyes closed, I heard her voice in my head.
“Wonderland will find you, my darling.”
YOU ARE READING
Beyond Imagining
FantasíaGrandma Alice used to always tell me stories of her adventures in Wonderland. Of course, she told my mother as well, but my mother was terrified. She wanted nothing to do with “horrid place” as she called it. I was captivated by Wonderland. I wanted...
