Cracks in Reality

I sat holding James’ hand; he squeezed tight, eyes filled with tears. I squeezed back as reassuringly as I could. I looked at the casket in the front, and I felt my chest tighten. I felt the tears roll down my face, and I looked at the sea of mourners dressed in black. I can’t say I am surprised that Grams was so popular, she was the sweetest women I ever met. I felt more devastated for James than anyone else here. They were so close, best friends even, and now she is gone. He stood up, kissing my cheek before heading up to the front. He went up and delivered the most beautiful eulogy ever. It was so poetic, that everyone was in tears by the end of it.

As Grams’ casket was slowly lowered into the ground I remembered the past six months I had with her. I would hold her hand and tell her stories about the dreams with James. Kiss her wrinkled cheeks when she would remind me that I was the perfect girl for James. I recalled brushing her hair while she sang old country songs. I would lay in bed next to her as she told me the tales from her youth. James would always come in from working the farm and find me with my head in Grams lap as she sat stroking my hair, talking to me about everything. I felt myself crying so hard my body was shaking. She was the perfect grandmother, I felt so incredibly privileged to have gotten to know her. James held me up, his firm arms keeping me anchored. I was grateful that he was there, to grieve with me, to strengthen me. Once again I was reminded that I picked the perfect man to be my husband.

After the funeral we went to Grams’ farm. We all ate, laughed, shared stories about Gram, just the way she would have wanted it. It was pleasant and it made me think that even though death is the end of one’s life, it isn’t the end of the legacy. I was happy to have stories to share with everyone. To be able to talk about how she met the love of her life, how she aced college but decided farming was a nobler career. I twirled the ring she gave me as I spoke of her. When everyone left, the house felt empty without her. James and I sat on the living floor with photo albums spread out all around us. We kept talking about her until we fell asleep right where we sat. In the morning, the pain was like new again. It was weird not waking up in her home to the smell of food. So I started cooking while James slept. I hummed her favorite songs and made her favorite dish. I started crying when I set three plates instead of two.

James and I took over her farm from that day forward. We cared for the animals, the house, and the barn. It was in her will that we have it all. She said even if she never meets her great grand kids she wanted to know that they would live well. She left us a small fortune, not sure where she got it but she said it was a wedding present. It was a very sweet gesture, even if my parents our loaded. We used the money to get some things that needed repairing, repaired. We got some new equipment, and got a new horse. We were both determined to live the simple life that Grams enjoyed. That’s how we would honor her memory, by living the way we came to adore as she did.

Six months after she passed, the farm was alive with business. Local supermarkets bought food from us. We still had her usual clients. Everything we ate came from here;our land. It was the life we had always dreamt of. Simple, filled with time to spend with each other and so much happiness. I would smile constantly with James, and then we would spend our dreams together. We were rarely apart, to others that may sound terrible but to us it was perfection. Dixie took up working on the farm on weekends and when Nick would visit he would help out too. It was great, something I never thought that I would ever get in real life. It was the thing dreams were made of. One day everything got even better. On our fifth anniversary we went to Aruba with the money Grams had left us. On this vacation we would conceive our first child, who we would name Gene Clark, after Grams herself.