Connected

Connected

I cannot say that I knew my great grandmother very well. I am the youngest of 15 grandchildren, and my mom is the youngest of the family, so by the time I came along my great grandmother had already passed on. Even though she was not around any longer she managed to make an impression on me in a way I did not expect. She lived in upstate New York on a farm that my grandmother resides in these days. We would usually take family trips during the summer months and as a little kid I would roam around aimlessly in the woods exploring all the nooks and crannies I could get myself into out there.

It was a cold February night when my mom and dad received the phone call that my grandmother was not doing well, and it was advised by other family member that we should probably plan to get up there as soon as possible. We arrived at the house and the usual green leaves were replaced with snowy branches. The grass had been replaced with a snowy blanket. We made our way up to the house and I could smell the fireplace that had been lit by my uncle. I was a little nervous making my way up the stairs I did not know what to expect as I pushed the door open to my grandmothers’ room. There she lay in her bed always on her right side. When I was a little kid, I was always up at sunrise even up before my grandmother. So, I would sneak into her room and snuggle up next to her and whisper Gram gram what is for breakfast, and she would say thank you lord for sending me this tiny rooster so I can start my day. Today is different though no tiny rooster, no Gram gram breakfast specialties. Today it is just my grandmother laying quietly and peacefully in her bed accompanied by a nurse.

Later that evening the family gathered into the living room downstairs they exchanged stories about their childhood growing up in this place and how they would love to carry on the traditions of coming up here during the summer months. This conversation made me uneasy it seemed as if they were talking like my grandmother my gram gram was not going to be here much longer. Later that evening as I laid in bed looking up at the ceiling, I could feel the tears start to fall down my face as I imagined what a life without my grandmother would be like. I turned over and wiped my face with my sleeve trying to be quiet and not wake my cousins I was sharing a room with. The room was dimly lit by the full moon’s ominous presence. In the corner of the room something caught my eye, and I could see a tiny white speck of something sticking up through the floorboards. I got up to inspect it and I could not quiet grasp it with my fingers. So, I quietly slid open the bedside table drawer and grabbed a paper clip and as I pulled up the paper it turned out to be an envelope. As I opened the envelope in my hands lay a poem.

One day ill no longer exist on this earthly plain

The heavens will call me and ill fly home

This life is only short in its existence

But in the afterlife, I will have joy in my heart

Only because I know I will find you again

When we meet ill greet you with a big smile and a warm hug

Until then when you find a glimpse of a snowy owl

It will be my spirits way of reassuring of my presence

Love Nora

I let the letter fall onto my lap as my eyes filled up with tears. Nora was my great-grandmother and the poem was addressed to my grandmother.

A week had passed, and my family had gathered after my grandmother’s at funeral at her home. I needed some space, so I bundled myself up, and decided to go for a walk in the snow. The air was cold and bitter but the quiet and the stillness of around me was a kind of solace. I could hear the crunch of snow beneath my boots. I walked towards my grandma’s giant red barn. Something about the red wood against the snow lured me in, but something was calling me to walk further past the barn; that is when my moment came full circle. On the edge of the barn was a majestic white barn owl waiting for me. Reassuring me my gram grams presence was with me, and everything was going to be okay.