The way things had been going recently, I was amazed when the alarm clock sounded. Josh and I had actually managed to sleep the night through without a single call or interruption of any kind. By seven o'clock, we were all set to head home for breakfast.

Before we even hit the kitchen door, we smelled the tantalizing aroma of bacon cooking. Sure enough, Maggie had the skillet going with gobs of bacon getting nice and crispy. As we walked in, she started breaking the eggs into another frying pan, then poured my coffee and set two glasses of milk on the table for Josh and Becky.

She was at the fridge getting the orange juice carton out when we came came at her from both sides, givving her a hug. At the same time, Becky darted over, grabbing one of each of our legs.

"Sure smells awesome, Mom," Josh exclaimed. "I could eat a horse!"

"Sorry, no horse on the menu today," Maggie laughed. "Now everybody please sit down so I can finish up here."

While we ate, I asked Maggie if there was any news about Jeanne. She said Mom had come back late from the hospital last night and told her Grandma's speech was coming back nicely and she seemed to be resting comfortably.

"If you want to visit her today, hon, I'll be here all day. I'm sure Becky can take good care of me, right, cupcake?" I added with a wink.

Becky nodded, giggling.

After Josh and Dad left for work, Maggie gave Becky a new coloring book and a big box of crayons they'd bought during their recent shopping spree.

Becky's eyes lit up when she saw them. I said, "Tell you what, sweetheart, why don't we bring your special table and chair into the den so we can work together, okay?"

"Yay, Daddy!" Becky yelled.

That settled, Maggie got ready to go to the hospital, telling me that if we needed her, to call the hospital's main number and ask for the third floor nurse's station.

"We'll be fine, honey bunch," I reassured her. "Give Grandma our love, okay? And tell her I'll go to the hospital and see her tonight."

Once Becky was settled, I dug out my manuscript again, preparing to "plow in" and get it done once and for all!

Meanwhile, I was amazed at how Becky was so absorbed in her "work." Now and then she'd bring a picture to show me, and I was surprised how well she did for a three year old. There was one picture of a tree where she had carefully colored each leaf separately. For the most part, she even stayed inside the lines. Then she discovered the harder she pushed on the crayon, the darker the color got. While she kept occupied experimenting with all the different shades of colors, I had a chance to work on the manuscript, and by the end of the morning was pleased I had accomplished so much.

"Runch whissle!" Becky suddenly blurted out.

I stopped and checked the clock. Son of a gun--it was noon already. The Fairfax police department tested their fire horn daily at noon and the sound carries clearly in to our house. Maggie had taught Becky this meant lunchtime. Of course, I'll never forget the night when Fairfax had a fire around three o'clock, and Becky raced in to wake us up for "runch time." When no amount of explaining worked, we gave her a couple cookies, then she finally went back to bed.

"Okay, Becky, what'll it be for lunch today, hmmm? Any special requests?"

She thought for a minute. "Yessss. PBnJ shutup an' chockle muk."

I laughed. "What? I know 'PBnJ' is peanut butter and jelly, and I got the chocolate milk part, but what's with the shutup?"

Becky held up one hand, saying "PB," then put the other opposite it and said, "nJ," then brought her palms together--"shutup."

Finally getting the picture, I said, "You got it . . . coming right up !"

We sat down at the table and, after saying the blessing, I taught Becky how to clink glasses in a toast. I figured it was safe since I'd put our milk in big plastic cups.

Just as I was tidying up the kitchen, the phone rang. It was Maggie.

"Joe," she sobbed, "Grandma's gone! I can't believe it."

"Oh, honey," I let out a long sigh. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Do you want me to come and get you?"

"No, it's okay. Mom came with me in my car, and I'll be all right to drive home. I just couldn't wait that long to hear your voice," she said between sobs. "Mom's calling Dad now too. Okay, listen, we'll be home shortly, and I'll tell you about it then. I love you!"

"I love you too, dear," I replied. "Please drive carefully."

I was terribly saddened by the news. Everyone loved Jeanne. She brought so much joy to many people, despite her own infirmities.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Mom asked Maggie and me to call their friends and let them know about Jeanne. Dad and Josh came home, saying they'd closed shop and put a sign in the window: "Closed due to death in the family."

We all gathered around the kitchen table to share our shock and grief, as well as make plans on what to do next.

Dad mentioned that Kopy Kat did many print jobs for a funeral home down the street, and said the funeral director, Mr. Green, was a very nice fellow. So we decided Dad would call him and have him pick up the body, then make an appointment to discuss the funeral arrangements. Mr. Green said Mom and Dad could come over right away, as he didn't have anything scheduled until four o'clock.

While Mom and Dad were gone, Maggie and I worked our way down Mom's list of people to call. Becky couldn't understand what was going on, but fortunately, Maggie was able to get her down for her nap without too much fuss.

Once settled, Maggie told me her grandmother had done something odd that morning. "Joe, it was amazing," she exclaimed. "Grandma managed to prop herself up on her good arm. Then she smiled and said, 'Look! Angels!' She was looking at the foot of the bed, then toward the doorway. I asked her how many angels and she told me there were two. Mom was out of the room at the time, so she missed it. Do you think I should share that experience with her?"

"Of course," I replied. "I think it would give Mom comfort to think there were angels with her mother at the time of her death, don't you?"

"Well, yes, I guess so," Maggie said reluctantly. "But, Joe, I didn't see any angels there. Do you suppose she was just hallucinating?"

"Maggie, I don't think so. I honestly believe there were angels, but usually only the person affected sees them, not outsiders." Inwardly I thought how odd this conversation was sounding. Maggie was typically the one with the strong faith while I'm more or less in the "backslider" category.

When Mom and Dad returned from the funeral home, they reported that the viewing would be from two to four and seven to nine p.m. the next day, with the funeral scheduled for Saturday at ten a.m.

"Wow, that's quick," I exclaimed.

"Yes, it is," Mom agreed, "but those times were available and we didn't want to prolong it. Besides, she would have wanted it that way. Mother often told us she hoped when her time came we'd get the funeral over with as quickly as possible and get on with our lives." Turning to Dad, she asked, "Remember how she told us she was planning to have a wonderful time in heaven and if we were moping around it would spoil her fun?"

Dad said he remembered that statement very well.

"Well, then, it's a good thing you were able to set it up so quickly," Maggie said. Then she went on to share the incident about the angels. Of course, the first thing Mom asked Maggie was if she had seen them, too. Maggie admitted she had not, but added that it seemed as though Grandma really had. Again, I intervened with my own personal views, amazed the words were coming from my lips.

We decided we'd all go out for dinner, somewhere casual, as none of us wanted to think about cooking. Again, we decided on Paddy's and as we sat around the table, we reflected on Grandma's life, sharing many happy stories.








Continue to Chapter 18


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