* Saying Goodbye to Granny

Note:  See part one, "The Memory Weaver".

I looked at Granny one more time before I went to bed.  Laid out on her butterfly quilt, the piece of muslin tied in a bow on the top of her head.  I looked for a long time.  I knew I would never forget.  I was five.

"What will happen to Granny now?", I asked.  Jeannie and I were climbing the narrow curved staircase to the bedrooms.

Mama was too busy to put me to bed.  Jeannie was always there when Mama was too busy.

"Well, they will come with a car, and take her body to a funeral home."

"When will they come?"

"I don't know exactly.  Soon."

"Will you tell me when they come to take Granny?"

"You will be asleep.  I will tell you in the morning."

"No, you have to tell me tonight.  You have to wake me up.  I want to know when they take Granny away.  You have to promise.  Promise me you will wake me up.  Promise."

"Alright, don't worry, I will tell you, I promise."

I climbed into Mama and Papa's bed, under the yellow flowered comforter Mama had made.  It was stuffed with sheeps wool and tied every few inches with pieces of knitting wool.  I loved that comforter.  It smelled good.

I said my prayers.  Jeannie kissed me goodnight and gave me that extra little hug she always had for me.  The light went out and she turned to leave.

"Promise me, Jeannie.  Promise me."

I fell asleep quickly that night knowing someone would wake me and tell me Granny was gone.  I needed to know.  It was important.

My eyes popped open.  It was light out - morning had arrived.  I felt anger.  I jumped out of bed and ran down to Granny's room.  It was empty.  She was gone.  Only her butterfly quilt remained.

I cried.  My hands grasped the quilt.  But they promised!  They promised!  I needed to know.  I wanted to know.  It was important.  Didn't they understand it was important?