Remember, this is not a sad thing

November 15, 2007
By
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.”
That’s all I heard, from there I blanked out. I flashed back to that day in the hospital.
“Momma! Momma, please let me see her!” I begged.
She wiped the tears away from my eyes and picked me up from the ground.
“I can’t let you see her like this. She doesn’t look like Grammy anymore.”
“I don’t care what she looks like! I want to show her necklace I made her. See?
She can wear it so she doesn’t have to be scared.”

I was only seven years old. My grandma was everything to me, we did everything together. She loved making things. From jewelry to clothes, she taught me how to make all kinds of stuff. About a year an a half ago she developed breast cancer. It was one of the hardest things my family ever experienced. I made her that necklace – it had glass blown beads of all colors and a crystal cross. I was determined to give it to her.

“Honey, I know you’re sad. I really wish…”

“Can you please let me say good bye?” I said quickly.

“Sure,” my mom said with a tear in her eye.
I stared at the beautiful tombstone. A tear ran down my cheek and crashed to the ground.

“Funeral’s aren’t meant to be sad child.” A strange voice said from behind me.
I turned around real quick. I turned around to find an elderly black lady.

“Wh-who are you?” I said cautiously.

“The name’s Clementine,” She was dressed in ragged clothes, it looked so dirty and old. She had dark brown skin that looked like leather. Her hands were knotted but gentle.

“Did you know my grandmother?” I asked.

“No.” she said solemnly.

“ I’m sure she was lovely.”

“Oh, she was.” I replied.

Just then it hit me like a ton of bricks, I fell to the ground and cried, cried like I had been struck with a switch. I pulled that cross necklace out of my pocket and placed it on her grave.

“Little girl, what did I tell you?”

“You don’t understand! She was my Grammy; it was like she was my only friend and I didn’t even get to say goodbye!”

“Little girl, what is your name?”

“Morgan, Morgan Epperson.” I said I sniffled away some of my tears. I stared at the tombstone. I could feel Clementine’s eyes staring at me. “Misses Morgan, I have something to show you.”

I turned around and she was gone.

I went home and went to sleep; I had the craziest dream that night.
I was at the cemetery, it was dark outside. The moon was full and I was walking up to the gate and as if by magic the gates swung open. I was in my sleeping gown. Clementine met me at the gate. She looked different this time. She looked 20 years younger. She was no longer in ragged clothes. She had a dress on. Her skin was no longer harsh looking, it’s like she had a glow about her.

“Morgan, I want to show you something,” her voice called ghostly.
I grabbed her hand, and she led me around the graveyard. First there was a gated area with flags all around it. There were people who were dressed in uniforms, sitting around patio tables on top of the WWII memorial playing cards. There buttons were large and there metals were shiny. I was guessing they were soldiers.
Then there was also a Reverend preaching to elderly couples. They were, where all the double burial plots were. They were sitting on pews now. But where did these pews come from? There was a man riding a bicycle that a huge front wheel and a tiny back wheel. He waved at Clementine and said, “I see you’ve got another one.”

“Clementine, who are all these people?” I asked.

“Eternal sleepers,” she replied.

I didn’t understand, “I-is this what you had to show me?”

“No mam. What I had to show you is a far greater surprise”
I followed her. It seemed like we had been walking for miles. Then she stopped in front of the gazebo. There was a women dressed in a beautiful gown. She was in her twenties, her hair was bobbed. She was glowing. A cold chill came upon me.

She was facing away from us.

“Clementine, who is that?” I said nervously.

“Honey, you should know who that is.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. I didn’t know what to do. I had a very hot feeling on my chest. I grabbed for my chest and it was that cross necklace I made my Grammy.

“Oh my god, Grammy, Is that you?!” I screamed.
She turned around and wow, she was stunning. It defiantly was her, but twenty years old.

“Clementine how is this happening? How I am… Wait. Clementine, are you dead?”

She didn’t say anything, she just smiled. I turned around to look at my grandma. She was right in front of me now.

“Morgan, my angel, I know we didn’t get to say the proper goodbyes but now you can. I was very sick and the last thing I wanted you to see was me in that way. Morgan,I have something to tell you.”

“Grammy, why did this happen to you? Why did you get taken away from me?” I began to sob again.

She wiped the tears from my eyes. “Morgan, do not cry, for I am always in your heart, you may not hear me, or see me, or feel me but I will always be in that little heart of yours. My good genes are in your blood. Live your life the best you can, and remember this isn’t a sad thing.”

I hugged her hard and closed my eyes and when I opened them I saw Clementine.

“Mrs. Epperson, are you ready to go now?”

“Yes mam.” Grammy said.

“Wait, Clementine, where are you going? Grammy? Wait!”
A bright light spread across the graveyard. Clementine had wings and she was holding Grammy hand.

“Morgan, it’s time for her to go now. Remember what she said.”
They began to walk into the light and before I could even run to them the light got brighter. I couldn’t see.

“Morgan, honey, are you ok?” my mom said.

“Morgy, I am sorry for your loss.” said one of my grandma’s friends.

One by one people came up and gave me their condolences. When everyone had walked away it was just me and the tombstone. I stared at it. No tears in my eyes. I look up from the grave and in the distance, for a spilt second I saw Clementine smiling at me. She waved. I rubbed my eyes and looked again and she was gone.





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