Grandma

I was 10 years old staring out the window of my bedroom with a blanket wrapped around my scraggly shoulders. The moon hid beneath a veil of clouds and I was entrapped by the light. Clouds curled around the moon, caressed her with a reverence I only understood when I was older. I swore I could hear them whispering. I hummed under my breath and tilted my head.

"Mom! Mom!" I yelled, "Irene's in the moon with Grandma!" I could hear my mother run up the stairs and taste her confusion. I looked at her when she came up the stairs with wide eyes. Shame drew a frown on my face, a faint feeling of "I shouldn't have said that" coursed through my little body. My mother later told me I looked like a little angel who told a secret she shouldn't have.

My mother drew me away from the window but the moon caught my eyes. It shined brighter before being covered by clouds. I was tucked into bed and told to sleep. The only light was my glow in the dark stars and a faint whisper that twirled my hair. I fell asleep with a smile on my face content in the knowledge Grandma kept watch over me.

The next day we found out that our family friend's mother had passed away a week ago. Her name was Irene. Our family friend had sent us a card informing us and our entire family was devastated. I was confused because she had just been in the moon with my Grandma. I felt the ghost of hands rest on my head when we were told. I leaned into them and drew the comfort of frozen hands.