Nanna's Wishes

The wind pushed through the house as a swimmer does through water.  Gathering the blankets around her, Maryanne shivered.  She was wondering now what possessed her to say she would be the one to stay in her grandmother's house.  Nanna's hospital stay had been brief, her life ending suddenly.  The presence of a DNR order had taken all the pressure off the family when the time arrived.  Her grandmother wanted no heroic measures she was ready to die.  1

Maryanne shut her eyes against the darkness, her ears filling with the sounds of the old house.  Sleep was evasive but finally came.  Breathing deeply she settled into the bed protected from the sullen weather. 2

Her mind drifted to dream.  Flashes of the day's events played out in black and white.  Tears, magnified, fell loudly to the ground.  Sighs sounded like screams to her disturbed mind. 3

Maryanne woke with a start.  Sitting up slowly she tried to locate the sound reverberating through the house.  Again and louder this time like a bell being run for dinner.  She took a deep breath and thought she smelled cornbread.  Sure there was no one else in the house, she got up and slipped on her bedroom shoes and robe.  She turned on the lights as she made her way to the kitchen.  The smell of cornbread grew stronger as she approached.4

The light shining from the kitchen was very bright, the door slightly ajar.  Pushing it open she heard the sound of a woman humming.  The room was warm in contrast to the rest of the house.  There was a fire going in the old wood stove, the scent of freshly cut wood tickled her nose.  Maryanne looked around for the source of the tune.  Her grandmother was standing near the sink.5

Maryanne stumbled back from the door.  She didn’t know what to think.  Surely she was dreaming, her grandmother couldn’t be here.  Closing her eyes tightly she willed herself awake.  When she opened them, the humming was gone.  She walked back towards the door and opened it again.6

"Well there you are dear," said her Nanna in her most pleasant tone.  "I've been hoping you would wake up.  It has been a while since we had one of our late night talks."7

Maryanne smiled.  Growing up when she visited her grandmother over the summer they would often have late night talks.  Cornbread was the snack of choice cooked in the old cast iron skillet.  They would take it fresh out of the oven and slather it with homemade butter.  Talking about growing up, and growing old they spent many long hours enjoying each other's company.  Surely this was just a memory.8

Maryanne walked to the kitchen and sat down.  Her grandmother brought over a teakettle and poured hot water over Maryanne's teabag then sat down.  Taking the knife, Maryanne cut the cornbread into slices and then served them both.  After many moments of silence her grandmother spoke. 9

"Dear, forgive me for saying so, you seem a bit off tonight.  Is anything wrong?"  The concern in Nanna's voice was genuine.  She always knew when Maryanne was trying to hide.10

Maryanne could not think of a thing to say.  This was not supposed to be happening.  Not after what happened earlier in the day, not with her grandmother lying dead in the morgue.11

No, Nanna.  I guess I'm just a little sad tonight. I don’t know what is going on, but I will be fine," Maryanne said half convincingly. 12

Soon they were laughing and joking like old times.  The cornbread was almost gone and the teapot was cold.  Her grandmother started to get up and Maryanne said "No, please just a bit longer."13

"Well alright dear," Nanna sounded tired.  She looked tired but smiled at her granddaughter.  She started talking about when Maryanne was little and the stunts she would pull over her summers at the farm.  The time she tried to pluck the chicken, before the chicken had met its maker.  The time she rode an unbroken horse bareback and the time she decided the barn was a better place to sleep so she wouldn’t have to follow Nanna's rules.  14

"It wasn’t long until you were back in the house.  You decided that eating was more important than being right.  I made my cherry pie, you never could resist a pie. What a sweet tooth you have,"  Nanna sighed and excused herself, complaining of a headache.15

The light of day was just dawning.  Maryanne put the dishes in the sink then padded off to bed herself.16

Several hours later, Maryanne woke, wiping the sleep from her eyes she struggled to remember the previous night and what had happened.  The conversation had indeed seemed real.  The cornbread tasted real, but then she could taste her grandmother's cornbread just thinking of it.  She sat up and got out of bed. 17

Donning her robe she went to the kitchen and got a coffee pot.  When she got to the sink, there were the dishes from the night before.  Maryanne was very confused.  Had she made the cornbread herself?  She washed the dishes as the coffee brewed then poured two cups. 18

When she arrived at Nanna's door she took a deep breath and went inside.  Her grandmother was there, in the bed.  Maryanne walked over slowly, not wanting to startle Nanna.  She leaned over the bed and touched her arm gently, as you would to wake a sleeping child.  19

She realized something was wrong when her grandmother's head turned.  The left side of her face was slack and fallen.  Her eye was opened but not seeing anything.  Maryanne sat and stared.  20

After a moment she called the ambulance.  She called her mother, aunts and uncles to tell them to meet her at the hospital. Walking into the parlor she gathered her grandmother's important papers and put them in her purse.  She knew what was coming, and wanted her grandmother's wishes granted.  No heroic measures, she was ready to die.21