Falling Into Blue Read online

  Chapter 2

  My grandpa was given six months to live, and as Dr. Jackson told us, the cancer was too progressed for chemo or surgery. After two rounds of radiation, Grandpa’s oncologist called it and told us his body couldn’t withstand any more treatments. It was now in God’s hands.

  That was eight months back. My grandpa still being here with us is a testament to his strength and determination to keep going until he can’t. I’m standing looking out our kitchen window at my grandpa’s work shed in the backyard. I can hear power tools running and I can’t imagine what he’s doing or how he has the strength or energy to do it. My grandma walks up next to me and swats my butt.

  “Ouch!” I let out quietly.

  “Go on out there and get your grandpa and bring him in for his lunch,” she says as I glance back at her and then the kitchen table and see the bowl of chicken broth and a few crackers she’s laid out for him. He hasn’t been able to keep much else down the last couple of days, but he still has really good days, like today. “I need to put another load of Jesse’s laundry in the washer. I don’t know how that brother of yours can fit so much into that one duffle bag.”

  Jesse has been stationed temporarily at a nearby post, and although he has to spend his weekdays in the barracks, he’s been given permission by his commander to come home on weekends. When he does, he has a bouquet of flowers in one hand and his duffle bag of dirty laundry in the other for my grandma. She just laughs and blushes every time. Jesse is the smooth brother with a smirk the girls melt for. The fun, flirty brother. He has lighter hair than the rest of us and his big brown eyes have always seemed to work at getting him out of trouble. Not only with my grandparents, but everyone. But for such a sweet, all-American look and seemingly good nature, he sometimes has a quick temper and can easily anger. He’s one you don’t want to cross.

  “Grandma, you live for doing your grandson’s laundry,” I laugh.

  “Well, it does keep fresh flowers on my window sill,” she chuckles and heads out to the laundry room.

  I know she’s really giving Grandpa and me some time. I walk out the back screen door and up the walk that leads to my grandpa’s work shed. I can hear Johnny Cash singing “Folsom Prison Blues” on the radio with my grandpa singing along. I’m going to miss that, his singing. As I get closer, I stand by the door and take in the scene. He’s stopped drilling and is cutting some thin rope. He must sense me because he looks up, sees me, and smiles.

  “Aw, just the girl I wanted to see. Come here. I have something for you,” he says.

  I walk over to the bench and look down at what he’s working on and I gasp, laugh, and then start crying. “Grandpa, what did you do?” I stand staring at him and then the table.

  “These are beginner skis and they’re lighter. I had a feeling you might like the red,” and he winks at me as he wipes the few tears that have fallen from my cheeks. “They’ll be easier for you to control, and, well, I gave it some thought and I think I’ve solved the problem.” He takes his handkerchief from his back pocket and wipes my cheeks and then his forehead and sits down on his work stool. “Your legs are the problem.” I laugh. “They’re too long for you to control.” We both laugh.

  “My legs and my complete lack of coordination are the problem, Grandpa,” I reply.

  I reach down and wipe sawdust off the pair of red skis on his workbench. They’re similar to the red skis I had admired in the sports store last time we’d been in to get Jake a new ski. My grandpa must have seen me looking at them because I never mentioned them to him. Seems I’m the only McGinty that can’t ski, so I didn’t bother with wasting anyone’s money on them. No matter how many times I’ve tried or who tries to help me, the most distance I’ve gotten up is maybe 200 yards. That was the time my grandpa was with me. He had jumped in the lake and was holding me steady until the very last second and I got up. I could hear everyone in the boat cheering, and I was so happy. Then I noticed my dad steering the boat towards the dam, and all at once, panic gushed in and I wiped out. That day, the last day of summer vacation, was the last day we’d spend with my grandpa, out on the water, ever, only we had no clue. Maybe I should have tried again that day, tried harder.

  “Well, what I’ve done is drilled a hole in the front inside of each ski and tied the rope together.” He points at the freshly drilled holes. “When you come out of the water it’ll stop the skis from going east and west,” he chuckles.

  I take some deep breaths and try to gather myself when I hear Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” come on the workshop radio and my grandpa stands up and walks over to me. “Come on. Dance with your old grandpa one more time. I can’t carry you on my feet like I did when you were little, but you don’t need me to carry you anymore.” He smiles down at me.

  “Oh Grandpa, I was always going to need you to carry me. What am I going to do without you?” and my crying intensifies. I try to gather myself because I don’t want to hurt him and make him feel guilty for leaving me, but I can’t seem to stop the tears.

  My grandpa pulls me close and whispers in my ear, “I am so sorry, Jaycee. So, so sorry.”

  Chapter 3

  Over the next two weeks my grandpa’s health takes a drastic decline. He’s barely able to get around without help most days. He spends his time between his rocker on our front porch and the couch, where he’s taken to sleeping because he tosses and turns so much and he thinks he’s keeping my grandma awake and he doesn’t want to disturb her.

  It’s Saturday morning and after making my bed and going through my bathroom routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face, I head into the kitchen for morning coffee, but stop when I hear voices. My grandpa is actually sitting at the breakfast table with my grandma and they’re talking. So, I start to turn back to give them some privacy when I hear what my grandpa says next, which stops me and breaks my heart for them in that instant.

  “Lila, it’s time. We need to get Stone to call all our boys and girls together if I’m going to get to see them before…” his words trail off, but the meaning is clear.

  “Colton, please, don’t. Not yet. We’ll get them all home. But please don’t give up,” I hear my grandma’s whisper.

  “Lila, darling, it’s been eight months and I’m not ever giving up. My mind is strong with love for you and our family, but my body is weak. Just last night, I dreamt I finally got to take you back to Hawaii. Only this time, I got you in a bathing suit, just us, and you were drinking girly drinks with little umbrellas,” he whispers, joking and trying to lighten the mood of the conversation.

  “Colton, you know how humid Hawaii is. I didn’t like it when you were stationed there thirty-five years ago and I wouldn’t have liked it now. You know this,” she tries to joke back. “Colorado in October, now there’s a place that would give us a nice break from the constant Texas heat. That’s a good dream,” I hear her say as she starts moving around the kitchen.

  “Colorado it is then, Lila. Next time, Colorado. Just you and me. But please, I need to say things,” he says somberly.

  “I’ll call Stone now,” she replies.

  I turn to walk back into my bedroom without realizing I have tears falling down my face. I’ve always wondered if by raising my brothers and me, we somehow took their private years from them after raising their own and watching them leave. If we did, they never let it show. They always treated us like we were gifts from God to be cherished. But they did sacrifice more than I knew. I hear something behind me and I turn to see my grandma in tears too.

  “Come here, Jaycee.”

  I walk to her and she hugs me. “I’m sorry, Grandma. I didn’t mean to take up so much of y’alls’ time. You had plans. You should have told me or just gone. I’m sorry. Y’all deserved your time.”

  My grandma squeezes my arms and shakes me, “You listen, Jaycee. I live half my day complaining because that’s what I do and it keeps your grandpa entertained
and on his toes. I didn’t travel because I like my home. I have no desire to go further than that front porch.” She points to the window that holds our porch swing and their rockers. “That was always my dream. To sit on my porch, growing old as my children’s children started making their way into this world. That’s always been my dream. Your grandpa, he never shared any dreams. I don’t think he ever needed any, because he’s always been so happy with his life. I’ve never heard him mention a single regret, and especially not you and your brothers. We would have had more kids, but God didn’t see it fitting for us or He knew we’d soon have y’all, so forget what you think you heard. We love you. No regrets. Now I’ve got to call your daddy. Go in and get your coffee and keep your grandpa company,” she gently directs me. As she walks off, I wipe my face and head into the kitchen.

  Grandpa senses what must have just happened and he waits for me to get my coffee and sit. He reaches for my hands, holds them tight and tells me, “Your grandma and I always wanted a girl. Some sugar and sweet in this house. We had one, but she passed a few hours after her birth. Your grandma went through a terrible labor.” I sit, shocked, but listen quietly. “I buried her while your grandma was still recovering in the hospital. Did you know that?”

  All I can do is shake my head no.

  “We named her Katherine and were going to call her Katie. The doctors don’t know what happened, but I remember she had a patch of blonde hair and she was so very tiny. Well, after that, your grandma got real sad because the doctors told her she couldn’t have any more children. After the heartbreak of Katherine and coming to terms with the fact that we weren’t going to have our little girl, we moved on and of course we were still very happy. But what we didn’t know then was that God was still planning on blessing us with a daughter, and that we just needed patience and time. Twenty-five years after that, God saw fit for you to stay with us. You, our daughter. We waited for you, even though we didn’t know that’s what we were waiting for. Do you think we’d regret that for even a moment? Never, Jaycee. You and your brothers were and are exactly where God, and your grandma and I want you. Here, with us. I need you to know this,” and he raises up my hand and kisses it.

  Over the next few days my brothers and uncles and family keep close to home. The house has been a constant buzz with family and visitors. I’ve had so many precious moments with my grandpa over the last few months that I try to stand back and let everyone else have their time. I know my grandpa has things to say.

  That upcoming weekend, when all my brothers and sister, cousins, aunts, and uncles are around, they take turns sitting next to him outside on the porch. More than not, once they hit the screen door and make their way enough inside and out of earshot of my grandpa, they break down. The women hold each other, but the men all enter the same way, with their heads down, and walk as fast as they can through the house and out the back door, down the steps, across the porch, and keep going towards the back of the property. They return a while later with red-rimmed eyes like the rest of us. No one speaks for what seems like years. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful. We all just need the quiet because we are waiting for him to say or do something, and we all want to be there when he does.

  The following Sunday morning, the men are standing and speaking by their cars in the driveway, the women sitting around the front porch talking quietly, and my grandma and grandpa are sitting next to each other on their rockers. Suddenly, we hear my grandma’s rocking chair squeak and we all turn. She stands up and reaches down for my grandpa’s arm. “Colt? Colton, honey?” she brings her hands to her mouth as tears flow silently from her eyes. Everyone has stopped and is just staring, but you can hear the crying from the women and even some of the men as my grandma tells my grandpa one last time, “I love you, my dearest, always,” and she walks inside, leaving us to our heartbreak while she deals with her own.

  Chapter 4

  Two long black limousines pull up in front of our home and my grandpa’s cousin Lex, who owns one of two funeral homes in town, exits the passenger side of the first car and walks up to the porch where he gently knocks on the screen door. We all see him but hesitate to answer, waiting for my grandma. She walks into the room and rolls her eyes at all of us and answers the door. Even with our grief or maybe because of it, we’re all on edge and not thinking rationally.

  “Hello Lex,” she greets him.

  “Lila, when you are ready,” he says with a deep baritone voice and walks off.

  My grandma turns around to look at all of us and shakes her head. “Y’all are all ridiculous. Next time, don’t watch scary movies. Jaycee, come here, honey. Stone, Duke, and Brock, y’all are with me. Let’s go,” she says and we reluctantly follow. Once they start heading for the door, Grandma squeezes my hand. She turns back to their wives and shakes her head. Not too long ago when we had a family get-together at Uncle Duke’s, Nash brought along a movie and that night, collectively as a family, we made the horrible choice to watch the scariest movie ever made, Phantasm. The aftermath, terrible. We are all scarred for life. Lex is the Tall Man.

  As we enter the private family entrance off the side of the funeral home we stand and wait for direction. Lex appears from nowhere, startling us all. I see my dad, uncles, and brother shuffle behind their women. Seriously?

  “Lila,” Lex leans down and kisses my grandma’s cheek and I see a collective jolt from everyone behind her. Lex seems oblivious to our behavior, or perhaps he’s used to it. He keeps his eyes on my grandma and ushers her towards the family side of the chapel. My grandma, who has sensed our behavior, turns to glare at us. As she walks off to follow Lex again, we reluctantly follow her as we enter the side door and take our seats in the pews.

  As I sit and listen to my grandpa’s service and eulogy, I look out at the people gathered. My grandpa was a Freemason, a Shriner, and a member of the men’s group at our church. He was retired military and a war vet. He also managed to retire from his government job a few weeks after his diagnosis. It seems everyone is represented in the pews. But most of all, my grandpa was a generous and kind man. My mind starts wandering as the voices around me fade.

  “You got ten minutes, Jaycee, and that’s it,” my grandpa tells me. He’s sitting back in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He’s having his morning coffee at our little kitchen table in our cabin while I’m having a meltdown, rummaging through cupboards and cabinets looking for anything that will help, and then I remember what Uncle Brock told me.

  “Grandpa, you can’t!” and I put my hand on my hip with a smirk because now I’ve got him.

  “Time’s a ticking!” as he taps his watch with his finger.

  “Ugh! Grandpa, you can’t! It’s against the law!” Now I’ve got both hands on my hips and I’m about to stick my tongue out at him when he raises an eyebrow at me and I quickly think better of it.

  “You a cop?” he smirks and chuckles to himself. He thinks he’s funny.

  “No, Grandpa. You know I’m not a cop.”

  “There a phone in here you can use to call a cop?” he jokes and looks around the cabin grinning. He’s on a roll.

  “No, Grandpa,” and now I’m glaring. He’s got me and he knows it. This argument is tradition between my grandpa and me. Beside our cabin is a large field and in the late spring it turns a brilliant blue from the wild blue bonnets that grow in it. It’s beautiful. Only problem is that’s the same field that leads to our tree house, and it’s where we play our outside games. We go snipe hunting in the wooded area off to the side of that. Although I’ve never caught a snipe, Nash did, and this summer I’m determined to catch one myself. Grandpa gives me the first day to pick as many blue bonnets as I can before he gets on his riding lawn mower to clear the field. We have tons of old coffee cans that I fill up and my grandma sets around the cabin. Unfortunately, I’ve filled them all and there are still so many blue bonnets.

  My grandma walks in with thre
e more cans and hands them to me. “Thank you, Grandma!” I scream, already halfway out the back screen door, clanking with the cans bouncing in my arms. I rush into the field and start picking them when I hear some more clanking and turn around to see my grandpa with a couple of small pails he must have found in his tool shed. He leans down beside me and starts picking the blue bonnets and putting them in the pails he brought out.

  “These are to go into the garage if you don’t mind. It could use some prettiness don’t you think?” he says as he smiles.

  “Yes sir,” I reply and keep picking.

  “Jaycee, when your uncle Brock was supplying you with the ‘laws of blue bonnets,’ did he happen to mention picking them is just as against the law as mowing them down?”

  I giggle because he knew it was Uncle Brock. My grandpa always jokes about my uncle Brock knowing everything. Uncle Brock had warned me that Grandpa would come back with that too. “Of course he did, Grandpa.”

  My grandpa bursts out laughing and walks over and picks me up and gives me a big smack on the cheek. “Love you, kid,” and puts me back down and starts looking around and at the sky. The sun is going to reach its peak soon, making it blazing hot outside. “It’s time, so get all your cans over to your grandma so you can decorate the cabin.” And with that he walks away with his two pails of blue bonnets. A few minutes later, I hear the riding lawnmower start up, so I go into the cabin with my grandma.

  The next morning when I wake up, I see my grandpa staring out the kitchen window with his coffee cup in hand. I slide off my bed and give a wiggle to unwind my gown that has twisted up around me. Still sleepy with blurry eyes, I rub at them as I yawn and start over to him. When he notices me, he motions for me to be quiet because everyone is still asleep. But then he sits his cup down and picks me up and settles me on his hip and then he points out the kitchen window to the field that was full of blue bonnets yesterday and I gasp excitedly when I see a family of deer grazing the freshly cut flowers and a few cottontail bunnies hopping through the field.