Cathy

It was the first death I experienced in my life and I was shocked. Here we were in Granny Barbara’s apartment, and Granny was not there: she was dead. We had to clean which entailed putting her good stuff to the side, and the rest of the crap in garbage bags. It was weird but calming, because Granny’s death was hanging all over the place like smog. Then Mom and Aunt Susan said it was time to “go over” the jewelry. I got this queasy feeling, like we were all robbers. Just days ago, Granny was lying there gasping, dying of pneumonia. Now we were taking her possessions. Ugh!###

I was creeped-out, let me tell you. But Mom didn’t seem to be, nor Linda, nor Aunt Susan, nor my cousins Brooke and Tara. They opened the jewelry box, announcing each piece, and discussing who should take it. They were lady-like and patient, saying, “Oh, I remember Granny wearing that, it has such special meaning to me,” but I thought what they were doing was wicked and greedy. I got especially mad about Granny’s cameo. When it they took it out, Brooke said something like, “Well I don’t know if you all see it, but I see Granny’s image in that cameo.” Then Mom and Susan, who had taken Granny’s wedding ring and anniversary brooch, looked at each other and nodded. They handed Brooke the cameo. ###

I wandered away, leaving them to the jewelry box. I went over to Granny Barbara’s sewing basket. She used to make doll clothes. I loved this about Granny Barbara, that she made stuff. Sometimes she had given it away, and sometimes she sold it and made money, on her own, besides what her husbands had given her.###

They said I had to pick something. “Pick for me,” I said. “Oh, you’re finding this hard, aren’t you dear,” my Mom said. Damn straight, I thought, but I said only, “uh huh.” ###

Poking around in the sewing basket, I found a stick figure under some swatches. It had a silly little ball head, which made me smile. It was her sewing form, for the doll clothes. She had made that too. Basically just a wooden skewer stuck in a toy block, the doll had a cork for shoulders, half a cork for hips, some toothpicks for legs, felt for feet. It had a robe on it, unfinished. I want to finish Granny’s last project, that robe. Suddenly I felt happy, like Granny Barbara would still be around for a while. My sister came over to me, a gold charm bracelet held out, clunky charms dangling from it. “I know it’s dumb and you’ll never wear it,” she whispered, “but pretend you like it, for Mom.” So I nodded. “Ask them if I can have the sewing basket.” I whisper. She doesn’t bother to ask, she just nods and say, “Sure. It’s yours.”