The Last Word

Flash Fiction Friday, February 2016

Meemaw died at home, surrounded by family. We all watched my mom’s mother go as peacefully as a woman of 68 could with pancreatic cancer.

Our eyes remained on Meemaw after her chest sank for the final time, hopeful that another breath would lift it again. We held our own breath, and for a moment we were frozen in time. When nothing followed, our heartbreak shattered the silence.

We sobbed. We held each other. We dampened each other’s shoulders with our crying. As the night drew on, we came to laugh and share stories. We relived our best moments with Meemaw until the night grew late. Then it came time to take Meemaw’s body to be prepared for the viewing. Final consolations were given out, and then the clans dispersed for the drive back. By the time my family was in bed, it was about 2 or 3 am.

My mom was able to fall asleep after a couple of hours. Being a light sleeper, she could wake up easily.

So when my sister stirred in bed between my parents, my mother flew to consciousness. My sister was lying between my mom and dad, who were still married to each other at the time. My sister was about one — barely talking at this point.

To this day, my mom swears up and down that she heard my sister talking to someone.

My mom opened her eyes and turned to see my sister’s tiny arms stretched towards the ceiling. My sister was awake and appeared to be holding onto something that my mother couldn’t see. Like she was holding hands with someone, as my mother described it. My mother observed my sister like this, not knowing what to make of things, until deciding to interrupt. Before she could call my sister’s name, my mother then — clear as a bell — heard my sister speak:

“Buh bye, M’maw. I love you.”

My mom felt a warm pressure on her shoulder. She told us it was like someone placed a hand there. She could smell her mother’s signature perfume. Petunias.

My mother’s eyes watered. Soon she was weeping without restraint, and in a whisper, said goodbye to her mom.

I’m not religious at all, but I’ve had multiple encounters with spirits since I was very young — from shadow people to ghosts, and even darker entities that give me a cold sweat just thinking about them. That’s for another story. What I’m saying is, I believe my grandmother was saying goodbye to her favorite daughter.