part 2

My grandma used to make drunk phone calls to my dad late at night. She would give him the run around, talking nonsense about the cat next door, his father, and gun owners, never completing a sentence. Before she hung up she would always say.. "anyway...the point of all this sweetheart, what I'm trying to say to you is... I love you."

Hello?? It's 4 pm on a weekday and my hair is caught in my necklace. Sweat is starting to glisten on my neck and cheek bones. I haven't heard from my Grandma. I keep trying to talk to her. My heart is racing and I'm flush. I don't know what I'm doing. How am I going to take care of everything? What am I doing here? Who are these people in my life? Why am I hurting so bad right now? What is this pain?

"Grandma!! Does God make deals or what??"

I hear nothing. I get home and stomp up 3 flights of stairs so slow, the melancholy metronome of despair. Evening rushes in and out and the night has really come for me. I'm laying in bed and my heart is still racing from this afternoon. I'm sick and I'm worried. I'm so alone. I give in to the fact that I'm not going to hear from my Grandma. Her necklace is hiding away safe in a tiny drawer in the bathroom. Maybe it was all made up in my head the whole time. And now how am I going to get through the night?

The moment I surrender to sleep and as I drift away, I hear her laughter. It jolts me awake and I can't believe what I've heard. I can't believe she showed up.

"What's so funny...? Have you met God? Tell me about him. Please."

"Dear Grandaughter, have you NOT met God? Do you really think it is me who quiets your soul at night?"

I can feel her smiling, and I can feel her fading away. Before she is gone she whispers... "If you're trying to make a deal with God,
I love you... "
And she leaves me with myself right there, and I'm left with myself right here.