Slipperless Series (Book #4)(22)

As much as I hated to wake her, it wouldn’t be long before the nurses came in and checked up on her. In spite of the advanced state of her illness, my grandmother always wanted to look her best, and it didn’t matter who it was.

I slid my hand in my pocket and pulled out my nearly dead cell phone, glancing at the time with a quick swipe of my thumb. By my estimate, we had no more than about fifteen minutes before the nurses would arrive. I slipped my phone back inside of my pocket and reaching towards her, I laid my palm on my grandmother’s shoulder.

I jostled her about with a gentle rocking motion. “Grandmother, it’s time to wake up.”

As I tried to rouse her, the rising sun pierced my line of sight with an overwhelming burst of white. Blinking multiple times, I raised my hand in front of my eyes to shield it from the blinding light. As I did, halos clouded my vision and made it difficult to focus for the next several seconds. Soon however, I returned my attention to my still sleeping grandmother.

“Grandmother,” I said once more, as I returned my hand to her bony shoulder. “It’s time to wake up. The nurses will be here soon.”

By now, my eyes had adjusted to the brilliant brightness of the rising sun. Turning my head, I focused on my grandmother’s face. It remained expressionless, except for the faint hint of what looked to be a smile. I shook my head at her attempt at a joke, and after a short chuckle, I rocked her with a bit more effort.

“Grandmother,” I began, as I moved her back and forth with a series of gentle shoves. “You need to wake up. Come on, you know how much you hate to have the nurses see you like this. It’s time to wake up.”

As I released the pressure on her shoulder, I noticed her head collapse to the right. I swallowed, and really focused in on her for the first time since I’d awakened.

Something about the way she moved wasn’t right.

I reached towards her now, with both hands, grabbing her shoulders. I began to shake her.

“Grandmother,” I said, with a bit of urgency in my tone. “This isn’t funny.”

I shook her with a gentle rhythm at first. As I did her head bobbled on the pillow like a ragdoll. I released her, stepping away and covering my mouth with both hands.

My voice trembled.

“Grandmother…”

And before I realized it, my vision went blurry.

“Grandmother?!?”

I began to shake, and my entire body felt as if it would fall out from beneath me, leaving me in a heap on the floor.

“No, no, no! Please, Grandmother no!”

Smearing the tears away from my face, I leaned over her frail body and grabbed a hold of her by the upper arms, and that was the first time I felt it.

I don’t know why I hadn’t before, but now there was no question in my mind. Beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown, her skin felt cool to the touch.

I snatched my hands away, bringing them back to cover my mouth once again. I moaned through a shaky, tear-filled gulp.

“G-Grandmother,” I whispered, begging in desperation. “Please, no.”

In stunned silence, I stood there next to her bedside staring down at her. She remained in the same position I’d jostled her into moments before. Just then, I felt a weakness come to my knees. On the verge of collapsing, I grabbed onto her bed.

Leaning against it, I dropped my head and as my hair closed in upon my field of vision, I began to weep. Far beyond a feeling of loss, the tears that spilled from my eyes carried liquid remnants of my soul. They spattered on the blankets, slowly at first, and soon after, a torrent, as grief overwhelmed me.

I reached for her hand, wrapping my fingers in between the now semi-rigid digits. I closed my fingers around hers, my forearm quivering. And now, as I looked at her, I realized my greatest fear was upon me. My rock, my anchor, and the only person who’d steadied me for years, was gone.

I stood over her for a minute, or two, or twenty…

I had no idea how long I’d been there when the nurses finally entered. Right away they noticed my distraught state and rushed towards my grandmother’s bedside. As they did, they urged me to move away, hoping against hope that they’d be able to do something to save her. But as I backed away, I shook my head. There would be no saving her. The truth was that even if they’d been there, nothing would have prevented her from slipping away.

Soon after, the doctor came into the room as well. For some time, I have no idea how long, he asked me any number of questions about what happened. I did the best I could under the circumstances, but I saw it as a pointless exercise.

What did it matter when I noticed, or how long I thought it had been?

She was gone, she was gone…

Gone.



FIONA