Christmas Relit

Blake

"Hey, Blake. Please give me a call back when you listen to this. Your grandmama passed away this morning and I wanted to talk to you about it," Mama said when I listened to her voicemail. I listened to it immediately after I watched her call end. I had a gut feeling that was what she'd say and I didn't want her to be on the other line waiting for me to think of what to say in response to that gut-wrenching news.

Grandmama Ila was one of a kind. She was my biggest supporter growing up. She was the one who encouraged me to take the bull by the horns - quite literally. One time she somehow managed to talk me into signing up for bull-riding at the rodeo when I was 17. 

She was the reason I found Jesus. She would drag me to church every single Sunday at 9 A.M. to listen to sermons that didn't even make sense to me at the time. I'm glad she did, but I dread being back in that same Baptist church this weekend laying my grandmama to rest. 

She was also the reason I got the nerve to grow a pair and talk to Edith Brooks, well, Edith Knox now. We grew up together back in Choteau and I thought I'd marry the woman, but Will Knox unfortunately got that fortunate opportunity before I did. 

My heart sunk for two reasons: grandmama's funeral and seeing Edith Brooks - Knox - for the first time since we were 17 years old. I wasn't sure how my heart would react to seeing her in person. Of course I occasionally looked at her Facebook page to make sure she was still doing okay, but oddly enough she hadn't been posting for several months. I still haven't grown the courage to send her a friend request on there, but I still like to see the pictures of her and her kids. 

I shut the door on the gravity wagon and paid Mr. Levine for the feed. "Thank ya, sir," I said. "The heifers will be glad to see this load pulling into the barn."

He smiled and winked at me, "Ya know what I always tell ya, bring a heifer here with ya and I'll load the wagon for free."

I let out a laugh. The "heifer" I've been waiting on my whole life would likely never pull into the feed station with me, considering she's married to another man, Mr. Cocks - I mean, Knox. 

I know it sounds like I may not like the guy, and other than him marrying the one woman I've always had a love for, he wasn't a terrible guy. He wasn't a great guy, though. 

The drive back home was cold. Of course the heat in my truck decided to stop working two days earlier and we were predicted to get a huge snow. Just my luck. My brain was working overtime trying to think of something to say when I called Mama back. I didn't want her to hear how heartbroken I truly was. My mood matched the Montana weather: cold, dark, groggy, depressing. Sometimes life wasn't fair. 

"Hey, Mama," I said when she picked up. "Sorry I didn't answer earlier, it's been a busy day getting all the feed hauled," I lied.

"It's fine, honey. I was just wantin' to talk to ya about everything and tell you the plans," she replied. "How have ya been?"

"I've been alright, Mama. The last few weeks have been busier than ever it seems like. How's everything there?" I replied. 

"It's been alright for the most part, besides the obvious," Mama sighed. "It sounds bad, Blake, but I'm a little relived; I couldn't stand to watch Mama suffer anymore."

My jaw clenched. "Suffer? What all was going on?"

"She has been really sick the last week. Losing her mind for months now. Yesterday she barely remembered who I was." I heard Mama's voice crack on that last part. That may or may not have been why I hadn't been home in a while - I couldn't stand to risk Grandmama not remembering me. That would've broke me worse than anything. But the guilt that eats away at me for being selfish is something I'll have to live with now that she's gone. 

"It must've been hard," I swallowed. "But I know she was thankful you were there for her, Mama. No matter how hard it was."

"I know, baby, I know. It's just hard. You see your parents all young and full of life when you're little, and one day they're old and fragile and withered away. It doesn't seem fair." I heard a ragged breath on the other end of the phone. "Anyway, I'd like for you to be here Thursday if at all possible. We wanna have a family dinner Thursday night, then visitation is Friday evening, and the funeral is Saturday morning. I really hope you can make it for all that."

"I'll be there," I said quickly, the words practically falling out of my mouth without an ounce of thought. 

I could hear a hint of smile when Mama said, "Thank you, Blake. I can't wait to see you, boy." 

"Love you, Mama," I said before hanging up the phone. 

I'd be lying if I said moving back home didn't cross my mind a million times per day. I wish I had decided to before Grandmama passed, but time isn't always in our favor, and neither is sense. Maybe when the time is right I'll be a Choteau resident again, but for now, Billings is where I must call home.