The blinding white glare of the sun bouncing off the fresh blanket of powdery snow burned through the window. Creeping around the blinds, the white light melts into the warm yellow glow of the small table lamp inside the room.
I’m sitting on a hideous brown couch. Surrounded by throw pillows and impossibly itchy Afghan quilts. The tv is on like always. Currently playing a game show from a time long before myself.
An elderly women laying back in a La-z-Boy recliner shouts “You big dumbo!” at the screen while shoving a cracker into her mouth. My great grandmother was anything but shy. Growing up in the depression had stripped her of any shame or hesitation she may have had before. A tough old lady, as tough as they come.
The judge blared the “losing” buzz to the dismay of the crowd. She looks at me with a huge grin and says “Told ya!”. Then laughing and outstretching the box of crackers in a offering demeanor. “You were right”, I reply. Taking a few of the buttery snacks.
I always liked these mornings with her. I used to spend entire summers here. And even without internet or going out places, we still managed to have a good time. Those were relaxing days. Looking back now, I wish I had savored them a bit more.
The sponsor logos begin to scroll up the screen and she grabs the remote, turning down the volume. “I don’t care what you’re selling!”, she says while tossing the remote onto the small table between us. She looks up, we both smile and give an ever so small chuckle.
The room falls silent and uncharacteristically still. Suddenly, with seeming no control, I spoke: “I want you to know I love you. And I love days like this.” We’re both staring at the muted tv now, rather than each other. “I know, Bubba.” She says. I keep my view locked on the tv, now showing the families of the winners cheering, hugging, and smiling in an eerie silence. “You know I’m dead, right?”, she says softly, but bluntly. With a crack in my voice, I reply “I know”.
The dream lasts a few more moments. Just long enough to turn my stomach and allow the tears to swell. Then I return to the world. A world where she no long exists. It never gets any easier. I really miss her.