Tragedy
My older sister, ambitious, compassionate, unique, and molded by the mistakes she had made
Chelsea can identify most of the unknowns of our family
Secrets unshared to my ears, or the perplexing intimacies I wasn’t born early enough to hear
While the dark shadows conceal the sky, and the light of day is only hours away
Chelsea gets comfortable after a treacherous night at work
A glass of wine in her hand, extending my knowledge as her sober thoughts weaken
The past generation of her younger self will reoccur in her voice
A lot of regret, repetitive lectures, and wise words of advice tend to slip through her reserved demeanor
Stories glide from her tongue and spill out of her mouth
Her speech will pull me in like the foamy ocean waves around one’s ankles
Revealing how she acted at my age
Immature perspectives about our mom, her dad, anything with the worthiness of leaking into the air
I’ve ached to perceive Grandma Anita through Chelsea’s senses
She wasn’t here when I settled my place onto earth
Only knowing her by viewing photographs in elegant pose
Short blonde curls, petite, and beautiful
But these diminutive details were not plenty enough for my curious mind
Chelsea would help me visualize Grandma in depth
The Pfannkuchen she would make for breakfast, the holidays spent together
Nature filled bike rides, video games, and brushing each other’s hair
X marks the spot, three lines down
The egg break, trickle and the enjoyable tickle always boasted Chelsea with laughter
Describing the warmth of my Grandma’s hugs, and love permeating from her enormous heart
All reminiscences were only something I can hear about
Urge for, but will never really understand
Chelsea mentioned Grandma lying in the cold, flat, white sheets of the hospital bed
Frail, as delicate as a butterfly wing
Tubes were attached to deliver life and new beginning
Ultimately received it back from her
A brittle smile would still spread across her wrinkled face
Cancer was working in her system, but not without a fight
Being thirteen and optimistic and slightly selfish
Chelsea was preoccupied with friendship and not the love for her dying grandmother
She was still standing there with our mom, cousins, and Aunt Lisa
The sympathetic visitors who filled Anita’s room
Determined to reassure Grandma everyone cared for her
Nobody thought this was going to be the last prominent moment spent with this relative
Departing now, Chelsea decided to go home with Aunt Lisa and our cousins
Promenading towards the exit, Grandma turned to Chelsea and asked for a hug and kiss goodbye
She replied, “It’s okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Aunt Lisa’s New Jersey house took precedence over Fox Chase that day
Autumn spread across the rich colored trees, their branches patterned like a spider’s web
The yards concealed in dry leaves, and the October chilly dusk was descending
The cousins were rushed to bed, sleeping in their cloud of serene dreams
But Aunt Lisa stood petrified outside the door, then crept in slowly
She appeared with tears in her eyes which reflected off the television like diamonds
Grandma’s passing was shared through a whisper that shook the room
Remorse is a powerful thing and the kids wept, streams of salty water saturated their cheeks
They came together by a force that was mysterious to them
Losing their grandmother, their playmate, their personal chef, their world
Haunted by the memory, cries, in the past and when she completed her tale
Her herbal green eyes became flooded wells
Leaking gutters, harsh summer thunderstorms
Voice crackling and taking multiple shaky breathes of air
I gave her a tight hug, for an instant I felt what she had went through
I let her know her little sister was here for her
