The Last Kiss

My first piece with Sunday Scribblings was on October 3rd 2009 and only my third ever post as a blogger. I had found a home and my first piece was called “The First Kiss.”

This is my 204^th offering to this prompt site and I am reluctant and sad to let go.

So perhaps it is fitting to write a piece which echoes this sentiment.

 

The Last Kiss

I received a phone message many years ago not long after I became married that my grandmother; my father’s mother had died.

So driving the few miles up to her home where she had lived all my life I paid my last respects. She still lay in the bed she used in the ground floor living room and her daughters were there waiting for the undertaker.

We had when I was much younger lived three doors down the street. When, at five I started school, World War 2 had started and thinking that I had learned enough on the first day I refused to go on the second. So in order to get my older brother to school on time I was dumped on “Granny” for the day. I think she was quite pleased as I know now being a granddad myself many times over, forming a bond with a little one is a privilege as well as a treat. It makes you feel younger and important again even though lots of explaining is necessary; little fingers touch the creases in your face and their games are often played with rules you had quite forgotten.

So that was what I remembered as I was taken to her bed by my aunts. My own long lost childhood came back yet I was then unaware of having children or grandchildren of my own. I looked at her peaceful face and automatically bent over to kiss her goodbye. I said goodbye to a part of me and it was one more step in making me a complete person. I turned and saw that both aunts were wiping away their tears.

I have returned to that street a number of times. It draws me back like a sirens call to the land where the building blocks that made me were put together.

 

A sweet kiss to Sunday Scribblings