The morning sun slipped though the cracks of Kara’s mini-blinds and wrapped its warm hands around her sleeping head. A summer breeze drifted through the partially opened window, caressing her cheek and bringing her out of peaceful slumber.
Slowly Kara yawned, stretched and forced herself out of bed. The smell of fresh pancakes filled the room luring her into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Sunshine" her mother called. "I thought we would have a good breakfast before we hit the road."
Kara devoured the fluffy stack she had smothered in maple syrup, but no amount of food could stop the churning in her stomach. For a fleeting moment she considered faking illness, but she knew she must not fail her mother.
By the time her mother came back downstairs, Kara had showered and dressed and was waiting on the sofa.
"Is Dad coming, too?"
"No, I wanted it to be just you and me."
The drive was long and lonely. There were so many questions Kara wanted to ask her Mom, but her mouth had suddenly locked shut, sealing the turmoil inside of her.
Her mother finally broke the silence. "Kara, I want you to be prepared before we go inside. Grandma may still be very angry with me. She may say some things that she doesn’t mean. Or she may not say anything. Her nerves were in such a fit last night that the doctors gave her extra medication. She may be too doped up to talk to us. Either way, remember that this is the only way, and that we still love her. And she still loves us."
Kara knew her mother was trying to reassure herself as much as she was trying to protect her daughter.
"It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine."
But no amount of talk cold have prepared Kara for the visit. The car pulled into the driveway of a long one-story building. It was red brick with white shutters. Surrounded by grassy fields, wooden porch swings and picnic tables, the nursing home’s appearance surprised Kara.
"It doesn’t look like a hospital."
"It’s not supposed to. They try to make it as much like a home as possible."
"But it’s not Grandma’s home," Kara thought to herself. "Grandma belongs with us." But she just bit her lip and followed her mother through the front glass doors.
The smell hit her first. It was a mixture of smells from the doctor’s office and the crowded school bus on a hot, sweaty day. Kara tried not to gag, but the odor made her stomach flip even more.
"How is Mrs. Turner doing today?" her mother asked one of the nurses at the front desk. "The medication Dr. Mosley prescribed seems to be calming her some. She was a live wire last night, but I think she is better today. Just buzz the nurse’s station if you need anything."
Kara curiously peeked into the rooms as they passed through the hallway. The people all looked so old and sick. "Grandma doesn’t belong here with these people," she wanted to shout at her mother, but again her mouth stayed shut.
Soon the two came to the last room in the hall. As her mother slowly opened the door, Kara could hear a familiar voice softly singing.
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see."
From a dark corner of the room came her Grandmother’s voice: soft, delicate and cracking with age, yet full of faith and emotion.
"Good morning, Mama." Kara’s mother bent down to kiss the cheek of the shadowed figure gently rocking back and forth. "I brought Kara to see you. Are you feeling well?"
Kara suddenly realized she had not yet made it into the room, but was still standing in the doorway. Her mother motioned for her to come over. As she made her way across the room, the sun broke through a cloud, filling the room with warm light. In the brightness Kara saw the frail figure carefully rise out of its chair.
"Is that you, dear?"
"Yes, Grandma. It’s Kara." The trembling arms wrapped around Kara’s shoulders, drawing her into a familiar embrace.
"Hello, Child. Sit and talk with your old Grandma. Tell me what you have been up to."
Kara sat down on the bed and began telling her grandmother about her part in the upcoming school play, her most recent argument with her best friend, and the yucky burritos the cafeteria served yesterday. Her grandmother followed along, with an occasional nod of the head or "yes" of agreement. Then the room fell silent.
"Lynn, would you go get me a cup of coffee? I’d like a little time alone with my granddaughter." It was the first time Grandma had spoken directly to her daughter.
"Of course, Mama."
The butterflies returned to Kara’s stomach as she watched her mother leave the room. She stared down at her untied tennis shoes, trying to think of something to say. But there was only one thing on her mind, only one apology that had to be made.
"Grandma, I’m sorry you can’t live with us anymore. I swear, I didn’t know they were going to take you. Mom didn’t tell me anything. I came home from school and you were gone."
"It’s all right, Kara. I wish I could still live with you, too. But I’m sick. I’ve been sick for a long time, and your mother can’t take care of me by herself anymore. It’s what’s best."
The room was again filled with silence, broken only by the squeak of Grandma’s rocker.
"Grandma, are you happy here?"
Grandma closed her eyes and thought for a while before answering. "Yes. I wasn’t at first," a smile crept across her time worn face. "I gave your parents a good cussing yesterday. It took both of them to get me in the car. But now I understand. I’ve got everything I need here."
She reached out to rest her hand on top of Kara’s. "But you must promise to come visit me. I still need someone to read to me."
Just then Kara’s mother returned with the hot coffee. The three chatted for a while longer but soon Grandma’s eyes began to shut and Kara knew that it was time to go. Grandma needed to rest.
"Bring the family Bible next time, Kara. You can read to me out of it." Her grandmother gave her a hug good-bye. "And the Agatha Christie," she whispered when Kara’s mother was out of earshot.
"Okay, Grandma," Kara laughed. "I love you."
As Kara and her mother walked back down the hall, she no longer noticed the smell of the nursing home or the occasional shouts from corners of dark rooms. She knew her grandmother would be safe here, and she would visit often enough that Grandma would be comfortable.
When they returned home, Kara went up to the bedroom that used to be Grandma’s. The closet door was open, revealing its emptiness, but the bookshelf was still full. Kara soon found what she was looking for.
The faded black book still had it’s faint inscription on the lower right corner: "Isaac and Nellie Turner." Kara tucked the large Bible under her arm. Tomorrow she would go to the public library and check out an Agatha Christie novel. Maybe The Orient Express would be available. It was Grandma’s favorite.
As she headed to her own bedroom something fell out of the Bible. When Kara bent down to get it her eyes flooded with tears. It was the Birthday card she had made for Grandma when she was in the first grade. She had copied a picture that hung in her mother’s kitchen, "Home is where the heart is."
Kara hadn’t known what the phrase meant at the time, but had liked the delicate heart that sat below it in the picture. Now she knew what it meant. Home isn’t where you sleep at night. You are home when the people you love are around you. She decided she would visit her grandmother every day and read to her so that, in time, the red brick building would be home for her.
That night the faint whispers of a hymn could be heard through the halls of the nursing home:
"Earthly wealth and fame may never come to me. And a palace fair, here mine may never be. But I press along still looking up in prayer. Anywhere is home if Christ my Lord is there."
Kara’s grandmother lay peacefully on her bed, thinking of her family and the wonderful life she had lived. She knew she was one of the lucky ones. So many of the people in the home had no family to visit them. Today’s visit had made her feel better, and tomorrow Kara would be back to read to her. Maybe Kara would even bring the book about the train mystery that she liked so much.
Michelle Gilmer is the daughter of Ed Thomason
and teaches at the Sikeston MO elementary school.
You can reach her to comment on this page by clicking on the pen below:
