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Theodore

SANDALPHON 2:64

SANDALPHON 2:64

Aug 03, 2019

I probed the door to Mother’s room tentatively, breathing in the fading scent of her.

Gran was standing in the room, motionless. Her one o’clock shadow stood erect and stark against the discoloured floor, the bright sunlight shone off her eyes as she silently sniffed.

“Gran,” I whispered, afraid to disturb the tranquillity. It was such a long time ago since I last saw the facial expression on Gran’s face. The tension seemed to have seeped out, little by little. “We’re done. I can drive you home.”

“I can’t understand what did I do wrong.” Gran said, not turning. Her voice was broken and shaky when she spoke next. “She was born normal. She had two arms and two legs, all ten fingers and toes. Two eyes, a mouth, a nose, two ears. She was so energetic as a child. So smart, so bright. Your Mother and I were close. This used to be her room when she was a child.” She pressed a hand over her mouth, eyes turning skyward. “I didn’t want her to enlist. I didn’t want her to go and save some godforsaken people. She thought it was an adventure, a chance to do some good causes in her life. Instead, she came home with a baby in her arms and another in her belly. I raised a normal, healthy child for twenty-years and God gave her back to me crippled and half-dead and expected me to raise two more unconditionally.”

A sob started to muffle Gran’s words. And I stood paralyzed, watching Gran’s knees buckled and she crumbled to the floor. Her shoulders were trembling uncontrollably, yet I could only stare at her curling-up form from afar.

Shakily, I forced myself to step into the room and put my palms around her shoulder caps. The whole time was surreal to me, as though I was watching someone else in disguise doing the work while I was sitting far back, powerless, letting the whole scene unfolded on its own.

“Gran,” I heard myself leaning in and telling her, tugging her upward. “Gran, you did nothing wrong. No one blames you for anything. C’mon, Gran, let’s go home. I’ll cook.”

And distantly, Gran’s cries got louder. A spot on my shirt front dampened.

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EPrescott
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Theodore
Theodore

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He was imperfect since birth.
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SANDALPHON 2:64

SANDALPHON 2:64

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