The Wait

I was ten when my granny died and I realized two things: one, some who walk among us are dead and two, only I, at least in my town, could see them.

It started on a Tuesday in the summer. I had been enjoying my summer break from school. Granny and I were driving home from the the store when it started raining really hard. Granny never liked driving in the rain, she told me how much she didn't like it every single time.

I don't remember much except we reached that turn Granny always said people always drove too fast on. I saw a big pair of headlights, glowing like a monster's eyes.

Then it all went dark.

I woke up on the grass, cold and soaked from the rain. The car was upside down. I couldn't see well but, I still could see Granny. She was still in the car, hanging upside down in her seat. Her beautiful silver hair that was usually tied up into a bun was undone. That's what I remember. Her hair, so messy and wild. I'd never seen her like that before.

I tried to scream but no sound came out. I was so scared I just started to run.

I didn't stop running until I was standing in front of my house. There was a police car in the drive way and two officers were just walking down from our porch. Mommy was on her knees in the doorway. She was crying so hard. I'd never seen her cry like that.

I thought about hugging her but I was scared to find out what made her cry like that. So instead, I just went to my room. I threw myself onto my bed and sobbed until I fell asleep.

When I woke up, that's when I saw her.

Granny was sitting at the end of my bed. Her hair was tied up and perfect again. She was smiling, just like I remembered her always looking.

I wiped the tears and snot off my face and sat up. "Granny!" I cried, "I thought you were gone. I was so scared. I saw you. You looked...." "There, there, sweet pea," she cooed softly. "No one else can see me, but I wasn't quite ready to leave you yet."

Every day after that, Granny would visit me. She taught me that seeing spirits isn't scary. They're just people who aren't quite ready to leave yet. She'd take me on walks around the neighborhood like we used to, but now I could see people I couldn't before.

Granny would tell me about them.

"That is Mr. Robertson," she said pointing out an older gentleman sitting on his front porch. "He isn't ready to leave his wife. I think he's waiting for her."

We passed the school yard and Granny told me about Miss Eileen. "She used to be a teacher here before you were born. She's still trying to help the kids."

One day I saw a lady kneeling by a garden. "That's Mrs. Tildwell," Granny said. "She tended that garden for twenty years. She's worried no one will water her tulips."

Granny explained it all. Some people move on to the next life easily, but others aren't quite ready yet. Heck, she said some of 'em don't even know they're dead.

At night, after our walks, I'd go in my room and think about all the things she told me. I couldn't believe some people didn't even know they were dead. How could they not know?

Mommy would come into my room sometimes and sit where Granny usually sits. "She can't be gone" she'd cry. I tried to make her feel better but nothing I said or did seemed to help.

"Granny," I said one day, "Mommy really misses you. I try to talk to her but she just keeps crying. I don't know how to help her."

"I know," Granny replied, patting my head. "Sometimes it takes the living time to move on, too."

On the fifth morning after the accident, Granny came into my room like always but this time something was different. She looked worried.

“It’s time,” she said. “Your mama left early today. But there’s somewhere you and I need to go.”

I didn’t ask where. I just followed.

The town seemed quiet, no one was outside like normal. She took my hand and led me into the cemetery.

That's when I saw the crowd. There were so many people. All of my friends from school, my neighbors, even my teacher. Everyone looked so sad. Mommy stood in the front wearing a black dress, crying into her handkerchief.

And then I saw the photo. My fourth-grade school picture from last year.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

“You weren’t meant to stay,” Granny replied softly, placing her hand on my shoulder. “I'm only here to help you let go.”

"But Mommy..." I pleaded. "She's too sad. We can't leave her all alone."

"I know, sweet pea. She'll always love you and miss you, but in time she'll heal. Now we need to go on."

I shook my head. “No. I wanna wait for her. At least till she starts to feel better."

Granny knelt down beside me, face to face. “Are you sure? The next place will be wonderful and we'll be together. Your mama will join us when it's her time. "

"I'm sure, " I replied confidently.

That was forty-seven years ago. Mommy never did fully heal. But she got better, like Granny said.

Still, I waited.

But today, I get to take her hand the way Granny took mine and we'll move on.

Together.