I would describe my mother as a fighter. She’s a woman who has had to fight for herself. It’s not easy in our world to support yourself while everyone has a preconceived notion of what you are and who you can be. My mother has fought for me— in more than one sense of the word. She fought for me when it came to the tedious process that is a child custody case. She’s willing to battle against anybody who has something critical to say about me. That includes in situations where even she doesn’t understand my position, she just cares that I have her in my corner.

When I was growing up, I was always told that blood is thicker than water. Everyone said that you defend your relatives and you fight together. One of the biggest believers in this was Violet Russet, the woman who carried me for nine months, the woman I look up to the most.
In all the fighting I’ve seen my mother do, I had never seen her give up. I’ve seen her go through financial problems, relationship struggles, and health scares; I’ve been with her through arguments and celebrations, christenings and funerals. Despite all of the ups and downs I had never seen her give up— until my Grandfather died. It was then that she gave up on the family.

The hallway air was still, with the stale taste of death lingering. We had followed these halls a thousand times, yet I always felt like I was being dragged through an unrecognizable maze. My short legs rushed to keep up with my mom’s full strides as we made our way down several identical hallways. After a while, she slowed down and looked carefully into a room. I looked around. There’s so much going on here. Some nurses are rushing down corridors while others lazily look over at a screen. Everybody’s body language is incredibly varied. I see people in panic. I see people in mourning. One man argues with a doctor who just allows him to scream his case at him. An old woman walks by, then stops and asks what we’re doing here.

“That’s not your room Ms. Pearson,” said a young nurse who had been guiding her. My mother made a soft smile in their direction. The old lady scowled, and my mom pulled me a bit closer before the nurse continued to usher her down the hall.

“Oh, hello,” came a voice from the room we had been standing in front of. A young man pushed a cart out of the room and started to pull the closed door behind him. “You must be one of the daughters I hear so much about,” he smiled at my mom in a welcoming way.

“Yes. Hi, nice to meet you,” She replies, shaking his hand. “How is she doing today?”

“Oh, well you know she’s a fighter. If she’s feeling under the weather, it certainly doesn’t show.”

My mom unconvincingly agreed and asked if we could go in.

“Yah, yah, absolutely here let me move out of the way.” The man escorted himself away, and the two of us were left by ourselves outside the door. My mom turned to me and knelt down so we could look eye to eye.

“I just want you to know,” she began. “She might look a little different. She has a breathing machine going, I don’t want you to be scared of all the tubes everywhere. It’s just to help her while she gets better.” I nodded, pretending to understand.

We enter the room. It’s just as bright as the hall but feels different. The light comes from the opposite side as the door where there’s a large bay window instead of the buzzing fluorescent lights that loomed over the hallway. A square TV fastened to the wall is playing old game shows. There’s one bed, a small bathroom on the left-hand side, a table with some wilting flowers, and a couple of uncomfortable looking chairs. The tiny frame of the woman I’d known my whole life seemed child sized in her inclined hospital bed.

It’s not the machines that throw me off. Yes, she had a clear tube running under her nose and tucked behind her ears. However, it’s the woman herself I don’t recognize. She’s so small. So frail. Her cheeks are sunken in, making the wrinkles on her cheek more clear. Her expression is worn and tired. It was the eyes, those I’d seen before. In those eyes I can see cookouts in a backyard, I can feel rides home from school, I can taste ice cream for dinner when I’m not supposed to. Those eyes belonged to my Grammy, but everything else is unrecognizable.

She looked annoyed when she saw me follow my mother into the room. “Violet! Didn’t I tell you I-” She makes eye contact with me, and lowers her voice as my mom walks closer and greets her, adjusting her pillow. “I don’t want the kids to see me like this”

“It’s just Azure,” A phrase I was used to hearing. Don’t worry about being around kids, it’s just Azure, he’s practically an adult. In reality, I’m seven. But well behaved to the point of being treated like a full grown person. Which was better than the alternative, being treated like I’m oblivious to the world around me. Sometimes I still pretend like I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve learned that if I’m quiet and appear to be entertaining myself, adults will go on with their day like you aren’t even in the room.

“How’s your brother? I told him not to visit again when he was here last week.”

“He’s good,” replied my mom, not taking her eyes off the blanket she was folding. “He’s been having some trouble with kids in school, but nothing unusual.”

“When’s graduation?”

“Sometime next month, it’s on a Saturday for some reason.”

“I promised I’d be home by then,” Grammy looked down, thinking to herself. She had been to all six of her children’s high school graduations so far. My mom stopped neatening up the room for the first time since we’d gotten there, and looked at her mother sympathetically.

“You’ll be home in no time, the doctor even said you were doing better,” my mom lied.

“I just want to go home, I hate staying in this place,” my mom noticed Grammy’s mood getting worse, and tried to change the subject.

“I brought you Ruby’s newest ultrasound. She’s having another boy,” My mom handed her the picture.

“Another grandson,” Grammy said under her breathe, “They’re really starting to outnumber the girls. Has her fiance gotten himself a job yet?”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one. He won’t be around too long-”

“Violet! Don’t speak about your sister like that. I told Crystal if that man leaves Ruby and the kids with nothing, it’s her job to make sure Ruby gets back on her feet.”

“She was never on her feet, to begin with.”

“That’s it, if you’re going to have an attitude, might as well leave me to myself.” My mom had told me that every time she saw Grammy, her moods were all over the place. I guess its a side effect of her medicine. Today she seems angry. Mom is picking up on this, and tells her our plans for the rest of the days, and that we’d need to be leaving. Grammy didn’t take much notice in this, so my mom told her another one of her sisters, Rose, was supposed to be stopping by later, and we walked back out into the halls.

“Azure,” called out Mr. Dawson. I was too busy doing my homework to look up. Besides, I didn’t really like his class, so it was abnormal that there was a need for him to call on me. “Azure, the office just called. You’re being dismissed.”

Now that caught my attention. Dismissed? I never get dismissed, I don’t have a doctor’s appointment. I gather my books and grab the hall pass Mr. Dawson had filled out for me. Walking out into the hall I can’t help but worry about what had happened. Usually, I’d just be thankful to get out of this place, Junior year was really dragging so far. But I just had the nagging feeling that this wasn’t a mercy dismissal.

The past few months had been exhausting. I hated school. I hated my job. To make it worse, me and my mom spent all of our free time in the hospital waiting room. It was completely worth it, of course, to see my grandfather. He had been in and out of hospitals and then physical rehab facilities, then again to hospitals. Back when he was first diagnosed, he was given just months to live. Shortly after that, a doctor had told us that he might make a full recovery. Frankly, everything we’d been told was bullshit. Grampy had been home for about two weeks now. And a surprise dismissal? Something tells me things have turned for the worse.

My fears are only confirmed when I see my mom’s face. She’s standing in front of my school’s cascading glass entryway— the warm natural light left a glow on her face. If it weren’t for her expression, it’d be a beautiful portrait moment. If it weren’t for her expression, things almost might have seemed okay.

“Hey,” she welcomed me with a half-hearted smile. I knew it wasn’t time to ask all the details, so I greeted her back, and we made our way to the car. I tried the entire ride to come up with an idea for starting the conversation. Do I ask why she’s here? Should I start with a joke about how she saved me from a boring class, to lighten the mood first? More than anything I just want to break the silence. However that’s never been my strong point, and she knows it.

Mom took a deep breath that she usually follows with some sort of news. She let it out, and it was followed by nothing. She had to think some more. Then she started, “I didn’t go to work today.” That answers one question. “I’ve been at Grampy’s all day.” That raises multiple questions. “He hasn’t said anything. We’ve been talking to him, he mostly just makes noises in response. If there’s a response…”

I could hear the struggle in her voice. I know what’s coming next. “He’s not doing good. It’s going to happen today. Do you want to say goodbye?” Of course, I did. Yes. One hundred percent. At least that’s what I said in my head. I couldn’t get the words to form. I couldn’t get myself to respond at all. She continued by saying, “His face is really sunken in, he looks noticeably worse from yesterday. But you can just go over to him, say goodbye, kiss him on the forehead. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

“I don’t know if I want to see him like that,” I finally managed, though it’s not the response I wanted to say. I had seen his health steadily decline over the entire school year, seeing him today was not going to make a difference in how I viewed him. I just wanted to distance myself from the situation. I just wanted space from reality.

“I know,” my mom responded.

“Who’s there?”

“Scarlett and Jade are there. Crystal is driving the kids back home, they were already driving up to Maine for the week, but I guess they didn’t get too far. Coal was there, but his mother keeps calling and asking her for favors. Sage too.”

“Oh, Sage is there right now?”

“Yeah,” she answered, as we rounded the corner onto our street. That shouldn’t have made a difference. My cousin Sage was two years younger than me, but somehow knowing she was there meant that I could handle it too. I knew I was going to that house, and I was going to be there for my grandfather, but that made me feel a little more comfortable with going.

We pulled into our driveway and continued, “I just need to run upstairs and-”

“It’s fine, I want to go and change first,” I interrupted. I liked the idea of having more time to get my thoughts together. “Then I want to go over there,” I told her, cementing the action so that I couldn’t back out at the last second like my nerves would like me to.

Sitting in the kitchen felt weird. I could hear everything that was going on, but I guess not having me in the same room was somehow supposed to spare me from some level of intimacy with the actual events. I’ve sat in this room a lot over the years. The stove is silent, I usually hear all sorts of foods hissing and crackling while my grandparents made Sunday dinner. The radio is off, on a typical day my aunts would be singing loudly and off-key to absolutely anything that was playing. The overhead bulb was off, only the dull light above the stovetop was lit. The room itself had an orange glow, giving the already old house an even more antique look.

In the next room over was the living room. On an average day, it was a colorful mixture of blue and white, with everything from the furniture to drapes to carpet having some mix of the two. The drop ceilings had no fixtures, so lamp light was all that ever shined. Two couches and a chair — Grampy’s chair — circle an old entertainment center that was filled with every imaginable form of media sitting on top. Despite not being able to see inside it, I know that isn’t the current arrangement.

The smaller of the two couches had been moved to the side. In its place was a hospital bed with my grandmother once again floating in the middle of its curve. Based on the shadows I can see, it appears that television is on, but it’s dead silent so Grammy must have it muted. Every once and a while I’ll see a shadow move across the room. Sometimes somebody, one of my aunts, will walk across my eye line. Everybody is here right now. It’s not any special occasion that I know of. But they’re all here. And I think they’re taking turns talking to Grammy.

We had just started to go back to the car when my mom takes out her phone. SHe says it’s a text from her sister. She paraphrased the text, Grampy’s breathing has slowed down. Everyone needs to hurry over.

Luckily it was only a couple second car ride between the two houses. Unluckily I still can’t wrap my head around the situation. My heart rate was increasing by the second. I was thinking about what my last words should be. Or what if I can’t even say them and I get choked up? Maybe I could just sit next to him, show support physically without talking and getting too emotional. Oh god, I hate getting emotional.

We pull into Grampy’s driveway. Scarlett and Jade’s cars are the only ones there, which seemed like a standard set up, as they still lived there. It almost looked as if, from the outside, nothing was different from any other day. This helped normalize everything, as we made our way towards the front door. There’s a makeshift ramp, we made so Grampy’s hospital bed could be wheeled inside, that way carefully crept up. My mom struggled with the ancient doorknob as usual, and the door finally jolted forward with creek.

The sound filled the living room; clearly, there was nothing to be heard before. No matter, the people inside were too busy to notice. Grampy’s bed was in the far corner, where his chair used to be. Next to him sat one couch, where Sage was currently residing, and the second couch was pushed a little closer to the door than usual to make room. Sage has pulled her knees into her body like she was sitting in the middle of a blizzard. My two aunts stood on the other side of the bed, both peering down at their father, and simultaneously looking up at us with the same lost expression. Their eyes seemed unable to focus, and the words had just escaped their mind. After an eternity, one said, “I think he’s gone.”

The words hit me head one like a train, sending my mind into a tailspin and my heart into the ocean with a weight chained to it. Suddenly I was lost in a familiar place. All the balance in my body escaped me. The news was like an attack on my senses, so I found myself collapsing into the nearby couch. My mom walked over to the bed.

Despite being on the younger half of her siblings, her body language now shows her to be the wiser. She stands next to the bed, Jade and Scarlett stare at her every move. They were hoping their big sister would somehow manage to prove them wrong. She placed her hand softly onto his chest. Her eyes moved to her father’s frozen expression, and the muscles in her face weakened into a depression. She shook her head and told us he didn’t have a heartbeat. Even though they knew before, the confirmation stung them. Scarlett’s hands, which she clasped over her heart, fell lifelessly to her side.

The three of them, fearing the emotion that would unavoidably be coming to them, changed the subject.

“I’ll call Rose,” Said Jade, picking up the house phone and rushing out of the room.

“I’ll call Hazel, Raven had just left to pick her up,” Scarlett claimed while picking up her cell.

“Okay, I’ve got Crystal then,” my mom called out, already pacing into the kitchen.

Scarlett was the first to come back in; her call must have been short. “Hazel will be here in a minute. Who’s left?”

“Ruby,” Sage’s voice weakly stated. Our aunt nodded as she began to dial.

“Crystal just got off the highway,” Jade told the room before she found herself walking back over to Grampy. She looked at him with watery eyes. “I just keep expecting him to wake up, you know?” Jade and I nodded, feeling compelled to say something comforting, with neither of us being able to.

Scarlett meanwhile had wandered her way toward the front door, waiting for Ruby to pick up the phone. If it weren’t for the lack of emotion behind her eyes, you’d think she was peering outside looking for someone to show up. She quickly snapped out of her haze when she heard a “Hello,” come from her phone.

“Hey,” her voice was faint. “Dad… Uh, Dad just… passed.” The words came out awkwardly, and her voice broke off on the last syllable. She hung up the phone and reported back to her sisters, “Ruby knows, she was at the store with the kids. I probably should’ve waited to tell her.” The other people in the room agreed with a visibly pained smile flashing over their faces. Then the distraught looks and lost feelings filled them up again.

My mom and Sage walked back into the kitchen. I just sat on the love seat, looking off into the distance. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to do. The density of the air in the room made me want to leave. The silence that filled my ears made me want to scream. All the while my body denied any command to move. I was trying to make sense of the situation, but my head was filled with a dizzying of memories and thoughts. So I just continued to sit and soak in the fog that surrounds me.

“I just keep expecting him to say something, you know?” Scarlett was standing next to her father now. Her words fell on deaf ears, not that she was expecting a response.

The voice did draw my eyes over to that side of the room for the first time. I wish it hadn’t. My grandfather’s face was a pale gray, his head hung low into his body, and his mouth was left open. That face would forever be seared into my memories. Not that I’d never seen that expression before. Back in the hospitals, he would often fall asleep with a similar look. It was exhaustion that took over then, so the moments were short-lived. He’d eventually get uncomfortable or alerted by some external noise. He’d close his eyes, shift his body around and lay his head back into a more natural looking position. This was painfully different. This was permanent, knowing that he won’t jolt awake with a cough or lift his head and tell us we were boring him made it an entirely new experience. Seeing him like that left my shell in agony, making the inescapable silence feel unrelenting.

The door handle woke me from the trance that had taken over. Crystal pushed the door next to me open, I must have given her a look that only confirmed the situation she was walking into. Her shoes echoed on the hardwood floor as she made her way over to the bed. My mom, reentering the room, came over to my spot.

“Are you okay?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” my voice managed to push out.

“Do you want to come out here with us?” She motioned toward the kitchen she had been sitting in. I looked over at Sage who was still frozen in the same position she had been in for the last half an hour. I shook my head, mostly because I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t want to be there, but I didn’t want to leave either. Part of me was hoping I could stay completely still and let the whole event pass over me. Wake back up in normality. It wasn’t working.

“Or maybe,” she continued. “You two wanna bring the dog for a walk?”

I looked over to Sage. “I don’t care,” I said, and she nodded before getting up for the first time since we’d arrived. At least taking Jade’s Corgi for a little walk would relieve us from the emotional prison that the living room had become. Jade was only about ten years younger than us, and she had seemed to be struggling the most at the moment, so assuming she won’t be taking him out herself, it was probably best we go anyways. The dog was very enthusiastic to see us too.

My mom came out into the kitchen, where I sat alone. Despite the spread of mail, napkins, dishes, and other items on the table, the spot in front of me was empty of anything to entertain me. I looked up at her, smiling at her arrival. Appreciating the change in scenery. She braved a happy face back, but I wasn’t quite sure why she didn’t genuinely seem satisfied. I could hear our additional family members shifting in the other room, which is strange because it had been void of any noise basically all night. Except for the occasional monologues my aunts had each been sharing. They were talking so quiet though, I didn’t really know what they’d been saying. I know Grampy had spoken most recently, he had a lot to see, but his voice was far too low to really make anything out.

My mom pulled out the chair across from mine and sat down, clearly talking something over in her head. Hazel ushered past us and into the back hall, tripping over the chair my mom had just moved. They both apologize to each other before snapping back to their tasks. Hazel was taking out her phone, I think so she could make a call out on the back porch.

“How are you doing?” My mom finally broke the silence.

I didn’t really know what to say. I’m obviously fine, I think she’s the one that needs to be asked that question. Or maybe some of her siblings, who are all starting to spread out from the living room. Sterling came and sat down next to me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“I forgot you were in here, buddy,” he told me, sniffling afterward.

“I couldn’t leave him at the house by himself,” my mom replied to him.

“No I know, he’s always around even when the other kids aren’t,” Sterling joke. It was a little strange to hear my uncle refer to me as one of the kids. He’s only about ten years older than I am, he was still in High School. He’s only four years older than Hazel’s daughter, he’s about as close to being one of the kids like any of his siblings.

“Why’s everyone so sad?” I manage to ask in the middle of discussing the logistics of my appearance here. I guess that was the wrong thing to ask. Sterling’s face dropped down, and his smile disappeared. My mom sighed and took a deep breath.

“Grammy passed away,” She told me. The sentence had an effect on the people around us as if saying the words made it different than what had happened a few minutes ago.

“Oh, really? Okay. Then she isn’t in pain anymore, right?” I asked — which was my understanding of when somebody passes. If their hurting and they pass away, then the hurting stops. Depending on what you believe in they might even go live in the clouds or become an angel, or become a newborn tiger. That’s what I’m hoping for when I pass, being a tiger would be good.

“Yeah bud, she feels much better,” Sterling said, sniffling again. “We’re just sad and gonna miss having her here, you know?”

“I understand,” I responded, then Sterling leaned over and pulled me into a hug. This is is strange, we don’t hug much in the family. Especially each other. The aunts will sometimes hug their kids, or you embrace a newborn when they let you hold them. Grammy used to hug me whenever my mom would pick me up from this house. But having Sterling hug me was unusual. But the way he’s holding, I can tell it’s more of a sad hug. So I squeeze back just a little, I think he needed it.