Never Prepared

There is a small bit in this that is me. My Grandmother has been on my mind (more than usual) because next week marks five years since she passed away and her birthday is in February as well. She was 97 when she passed away and she was ready to go and I thought I was prepared for her passing but I wasn't prepared. Much like Lessa, no matter what I told myself I couldn't get past the hole. I still feel that emptiness, times like this it is more pronounced than others. I would give almost anything to feel her arms around me again and see her gentle smile. I actually have tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat as I type. While my rational mind tells me one thing, my heart has its own agenda. So here is day 23 of the 31 day writing challenge.

Prompt (Random First Line): There was nothing left of the money except

There was nothing left of the money except for the $2000 to cover the cremation.  Lessa was not sure how it had happened because she had been watching every dime. Going back over the accounts, she checked and rechecked the activity but everything looked legit.  Taking her glasses off she scrubbed her hands across her face and began to massage her temples. It had been easier to channel her grief into this activity than to think about the hole in her heart. Pushing her emotions back into their box, she gathered up the last of the bills and the checks she had written to pay them, stood, and stretched. Strolling over to her purse, she put them inside, and pulled out the picture that was partially exposed. Looking down, she just stared at the smiling, happy face and couldn’t stand that she would never get to see that face in person again. She thought she was prepared for this moment but when it happened, she realized that there was no way to be prepared. She just didn’t realize that emptiness that would settle in her heart and in her soul. It didn’t matter how much she prayed, how much she knew he was at peace now, how much she tried to convince herself that this was for the best, she just wanted to be selfish. She wanted her Paw Paw back. She wanted to hear his gruff laugh and smell that smell that was distinctly him, cedar, tobacco, and fresh earth. She wanted to feel his arms around her as he hugged her tight and reminded her that everything was ok. Running her finger across the picture, she felt the tears begin to slide down her face and knew that the breakdown was coming. Sliding to the floor, she pulled her legs to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and began to rock back and forth, as she cried. She actually did more than cry, she sobbed, feeling her world coming completely undone. Engulfed in her grief, she was oblivious to everything around her until she felt the tiny hand on her hair. “Mommy, Paw Paw told me to tell you that it was ok. He said you shouldn’t cry anymore.” Startled Lessa looked up at the face of her four-year-old daughter and saw the sincerity in her eyes. “Baby, when did Paw Paw tell you this?” “Just now, he woke me and said you needed a hug. Do you need a hug Mommy?” Grabbing her baby girl, Lessa continued to cry but felt a small glimmer of hope that perhaps she would see her Paw Paw again, someday.