Archive for August, 2009

August 20th, 2009


I’m in my parents’ entryway. Light is streaming in through the window in their old front door, and the bell rings. The door swings open and standing there, impossibly tall and slim, young, glowing, is my grandmother. It can’t be her, of course; she’s dead; but it is. Unmistakeably.

I stare, openmouthed, silent. She looks at me for a moment then turns. She casts a glance over her shoulder as she steps down to the driveway. Out there everything is the warmest, clearest, softest of summer afternoon light. I call, frantically, for my mom. I look away just for an instant, up the inside stairs to the living room, and when I look back my grandma is gone. When my mom gets down to the entryway I am sobbing. I don’t know it’s a dream and I can’t understand what’s happening, can’t make any sense of it.

I wake confused, breathless.

I miss her.