The Dear One Read Online Free PDF

became as quiet as it is now.” Grandma picked up one of the lilies and held it to my nose. I inhaled and it tickled my nostrils. “I took a quarter from my apron pocket and closed your granddaddy’s eyes.”
    We were silent for a long time. I stared at the dark gray stone, wishing I had known the man who lay beneath it. RANDALL CALEB, the stone said, 1919-1989. MAY HE REST IN PEACE. Underneath that was a poem, engraved in tiny letters. I had memorized it a long time ago:
    Your world is as big as you make it.
I know for I used to abide
in the narrowest nest in a corner,
my wings pressing close to my side
but I sighted a distant horizon
where the skyline encircled the sea
and I throbbed with a burning desire
to travel this immensity
I battled the cordons around me
and cradled my wings on the breeze
then soared to the uttermost reaches
with rapture, with vigor, with ease!
    As I read the poem silently, I felt Grandma watching me. When I’d finished, I looked at her and waited.
    â€œYour mother and father are good people, Feni. They love you very much.”
    I nodded. Grandma continued and it seemed almost as if she were talking to someone else—someone miles and miles away.
    â€œWomen are strong, Feni. Survivors. The Bible says we were made from the rib of Adam, but that may not be true.”
    â€œBut Grandma,” I interrupted, “you said the Bible is Truth!”
    â€œYeah. Yeah. I know what I said, sweetheart. That was a long time ago.”
    â€œBefore you stopped going to church, Grandma?”
    She nodded. “Long before I stopped going to church.”
    â€œBut why did you stop going?”
    â€œI stopped going because I didn’t believe anymore, Feni. Can you understand that?”
    I nodded. “It’s like when I didn’t believe in Santa anymore.”
    Grandma smiled. “Exactly. I stopped believing in waiting, Afeni. If something is going to happen to me after I die, then it will. No use worrying and praying while I still have plenty of this life to live. It’s easier this way. But that’s not what I’m trying to tell you. What I want to say is that in this world, there are all types of women. Some of us make mistakes and some of us seem weak sometimes and others seem full of strength. Some don’t want to bear children, others can’t. Some women marry once, or eight and nine times, and others never do.”
    â€œLike Marion?”
    A frown flickered across Grandma’s face. She didn’t like Marion. “Sometimes. But we’re not talking about Marion, sweetheart. We’re talking about your mother. She’s a strong woman. She makes mistakes sometimes. Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t love you, but I want to tell you this—”
    â€œSometimes it seems like Ma doesn’t care about me.”
    â€œBut she does, Feni. That’s my point. Your mother, she has a big problem now. A very big one. And she’s going to have to get through it on her own. You have to bear with her, Feni. Don’t be stubborn. Don’t be angry.”
    â€œBut sometimes she makes me so mad, Grandma. When she drinks . . .”
    â€œThat liquor makes your mama weak.”
    â€œAnd it makes Dad mad. Then they fight. They fight so much.”
    Grandma looked down at me. “People come together sometimes and it isn’t a bit more meant to be than I don’t know what. It just doesn’t make sense to anybody.”
    â€œLike Ma and Dad. I don’t think they love each other. And when Ma drinks, I get scared.”
    â€œSomeday your mama’s going to realize that drinking doesn’t heal any wounds,” Grandma said softly. “I look at her and I see she’s all broken up inside. She wants something she isn’t getting.”
    â€œWhat does she want?”
    Grandma squeezed my hand and pulled me to my feet. “She’s the only one who knows, Feni.” Her voice was