It was a raining
when Julia found out about Grammy. She heard her mother crying in her bedroom.
Julia ran to her. "Mommy, why are you crying?"
Julia's mother wiped her tears. "Its about Grammy," she said.
“She’s
needs to have an operation.”
“We
just saw her last week. She looked fine,” said Julia.
“I know, honey. I should have told you
before. Grammy’s got cancer,” her mom said, almost
in a whisper.
Julia remembered
cancer was what Amy’s dad died of last month. She never thought this could
happen in her family, except for Max, her cocker spaniel, who was buried in the
back yard.
“Is…is
Grammy going to die? asked Julia. Her mother put her arms around her. “No, but
she’s having surgery to stop the cancer from spreading.”
Julia hated the
sound of that word. She wanted to pretend it was all a bad dream. She pulled
away from her mom and said, “Can I see her?”
“Yes
honey. I’m going to pack Grammy’s things for the hospital tomorrow,” said mom.
“You can come along.”
The next day
Julia and her mom went to Grammy’s house.
Grammy was on the
couch when Julia came bursting though the door. Instantly, Grammy’s face
brightened, holding her arms out to her granddaughter. Julia stopped in her
tracks.
“Is
it okay to hug you?” asked Julia. “Does the cancer hurt?”
“Yes,
you can hug me,” answered Grammy.
“And no, it doesn’t hurt.
Anyway, I don’t
have cancer. I have chicklets.”
“Chicklets.”
Julia and her mother said the word at the same time.
“Mother,
Julia knows about….”
Grammy
interrupted her daughter. “Chicklets…it’s what I’m calling my cancer cells.
That word has too much baggage. We all need to lighten up.”
Julia remembered
the time she and her grandmother painted their faces and went shopping at the
mall. They were always doing crazy, fun stuff together. Calling her cancer
“chicklets” was just like her.
“I
don’t want to see any long faces around here.” said Grammy, “over a case of
chicklets.”
Julia giggled and
her mom smiled for the first time in days.
“Can
you die of chicklets?” Julia asked.
“Honey,
you can die of anything, any time,” said Grammy. She paused and looked at
Julia, then her mother. “But now we are all alive, right here, right now. So
how about getting going out for a nice walk?
“Okay,”
said Julia hugging Grammy, “I’m just afraid. I don’t know much about …chicklets.
Grammy looked
into Julia’s eyes and said, “Chicklets are cells growing in the body that are
not healthy. They grow together in little clumps called tumors.” said Grammy.
“Where
are you sick, Grammy?” asked Julia.
“It’s
my brain, honey. Tomorrow the doctors are going to take the chickets out”
stated Grammy.
“In
an operation?” asked Julia.
“Yes,
and some people take medicine or do something called radiation…to get rid of
the bad cells.”
“Is
that that all you can do for chicklets?” asked Julia, happy to have this new
word to use.
“Oh,
there’s lots of things to do…like eating healthy… and exercising, just like
we’re going to do right now,” said Grammy.
Julia took her
grandmother’s hand. “I’m glad you’re not going to die, Grammy.”
“Not
yet,” said Grammy. “But I will one day, so I want you to know that death is
nothing to fear. Our spirits…or souls…never die.”
“Do
we go to heaven?” asked Julia.
“When
we leave the body, I believe we go into Pure Positive Energy,” answered Grammy,
smiling.
Julia wondered if
her dog that died was in Pure Positive Energy. Maybe, she thought, that’s just
another name for “dog heaven.”
That night, Julia
knelt by her bed and prayed: “Please watch over
Grammy. Keep her safe during the operation…so her chicklets go away.” She stood up and then quickly knelt
back down.
“And, please
don’t let her die for a long time.”
That night Julia
had an amazing dream. She was floating at the bottom of a crystal clear lake.
She couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead. A beam of bright white light blazed
through the surface of the water, pulling her up, up, and up.
It felt like the
light was calling her home. It was beautiful. When she awoke, she knew something
special had happened. She felt peaceful. It was like a glimpse of heaven.
While mom packed
Grammy’s suitcase, Julia told her grandmother about the dream.
“I
like that part about the light,” said Grammy.
Julia’s mom came
into the living room holding Grammy’s suitcase. “Sorry to interrupt. But it’s
time to go to the hospital,” she said.
“Can
I see you after your operation, Grammy?” asked Julia.
“I
hope you’re both there when I wake up,” said Grammy.
The next day
Julia and her mom went to the hospital. “Is her operation over?” asked Julia.
“Not
yet, sweetheart.” Julia’s mom tried not to look worried, but Julia knew she
was.
Julia thought
about the white light she saw in her dream. She wondered if Grammy would see
the light during her operation. Or maybe go up, up, up into the light…just like
she did.
At the hospital,
Julia and her mom hurried down the corridor to Grammy’s room.
When they got
there, she was asleep with her head wrapped in bandages. She looked so fragile.
Julia smelled the roses that filled the
hospital room. She hoped Grammy could smell them, even in her sleep.
Slowly, Julia
moved close to the bed for a better look at her grandmother. She looked serene, like she might have
been swimming in a sea of light.
Julia was
prepared to wait for Grammy to wake up no matter how long it took. She leaned over to smell the roses on
the table near Grammy’s hospital bed. When
she looked back at her grandmother, her eyes were open.
Grammy smiled and
spoke in a whisper. Julia and her
mom leaned over to listen.
“No….more…chicklets,”
said Grammy with a faint smile. Julia reached over and held her grandmother’s
hand, grateful the operation had not taken away her sense of humor.
“I
love you, Grammy,” said Julia.
“ I
love you more,” whispered Grammy, as she drifted back into a deep and peaceful sleep.
Artwork by Katherine Woodman-Maynard
