𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒗

Chapter 48 - Grandmama

Anastasia and Andrei didn't have a honeymoon.

They felt they didn't need one for they were just as happy celebrating the beginning of their beautiful new life together at Sandringham, surrounded by the people they loved.

The year traveled on and tragedy struck when Joy, unfortunately, passed away in July at the old age of sixteen.

"He was a wonderful friend." Maria sniffed as she wiped her tears. The family had a small marble memorial erected in Sandringham's gardens for the dog.

The year was filled with more tragedy for the family had received a letter from Denmark in late September.

Grandmama was on her deathbed.

The next day was spent packing and the day after, Maria, Anastasia, Xenia, Olga, Vasili, eleven-year-old Tikhon, and nine-year-old Guri boarded the HMS Bridport for a four-day journey to Denmark. From there, they were driven to a town in Copenhagen named Klampenborg. In Klampenborg, they were driven in a separate car to Hvidøre House, a country house, on the coast.

The car finally arrived at the house on the second day of October as a light rain fell. The lavish house came into view of the car but there was no time to admire it for the family had rushed to the upper level of the house and into Grandmama's room where she rested in bed. She lay motionless, frail, and weak. She couldn't move her head but her eyes turned toward her family.

"Oh." was all she managed to say.

"It's alright, mother. We are here." Olga said as she took her hand. The family sat in chairs around her bed, tending to her needs, reading to her, and singing hymns. Grandmama was awake most of the time but was unresponsive.

Eleven days after coming to Denmark, Grandmama passed.

Some might even say she died of a broken heart.

Maria Feodorovna, Empress consort of Russia passed away on October thirteenth, nineteen-twenty-eight, aged eighty.

Tears were shed. Letters were mailed from family far away. A funeral was held a few days later at Roskilde Cathedral. Olga and Xenia cried the most during the service. Their beloved mother was gone. Maria and Anastasia knew exactly how they felt.

The year followed with more pain and suffering for when the family returned to Sandringham, they found little three-year-old Anatolii in bed, stricken with pain.

"There were no accidents, no bruises, no falling! He was in pain when he awoke this morning!" Liesel cried as she followed Maria who had run into the nursery.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" she shrieked.

"How could this happen?" Maria asked. Liesel shrugged her shoulders as her face grew red with tears.

Maria had an idea. "Was he playing in his toy cart?"

That previous Christmas, Anatolii had received a small toy cart that he loved to ride in.

"Yes! I was pushing him around on the pebble driveway yesterday. I wasn't pushing hard!"

"I think I know what's wrong. A similar thing happened to my brother Alexei. He was riding in a carriage with my mother. The vibrations and juddering of the carriage was shaking him. A healing hematoma in his thigh burst, causing him to bleed. It seems the reaction was slowed for Ana and nothing has burst. The blood is clotting causing pain." she said as she stroked his hair.

"You are very smart," Liesel remarked.

"Thank you. My older sisters and mother were nurses during the great war. I wasn't a nurse but I've learned a lot from them. And since my brother was a hemophiliac, I've picked up a few things."