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May 2008

No Roses for Grandma
By Linda D. Delgado

Susan eased back onto her knees and tipped the wide-brimmed straw hat back from her forehead. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her long-sleeved shirt.

It was 7:00 AM and already the Arizona sun beat down on the rose garden Susan was weeding. Grandma’s rose garden. Grandma had died three years ago, but Susan would always think of the rose garden as her grandmother’s. Her grandma and great grandmother had planted the roses together with her grandma learning how to care for the many rose bushes that were planted some 30 years ago. Today each bush still bloomed twice annually.

Susan put her spade down and fingered the rim of the straw hat. She loved the old thing. Her grandmother had worn it for years and Susan had just naturally began wearing it once her grandma was no longer in need of it.

Susan turned slightly to see her grandpa across the yard from her. He was watering the shrubs. Susan grinned. Grandma had finally convinced him to wear the matching straw hat she had bought for him but she was never able to convince him that he should water the plants just before sundown.  Her grandpa could be a tad stubborn when he got an idea in his head. Susan’s smile disappeared when she thought of how lonely it would be once her grandpa was gone. He was approaching 80 years now and had slowed down considerably.  He fussed and fumed when Susan insisted he take his cane with him whenever they went to the grocery store. Yes, Grandpa still insisted on buying his own groceries. He also refused to wear the hearing aids that Grandma had insisted he get just a year before she died.

“Grandpa. Grandpa!” Susan yelled. No response. Susan got to her feet and walked across the front lawn and touched her grandpa’s shoulder.

“What? What?” Grandpa said in an irritable tone of voice.

Susan grinned at him and said, “I think the tribe is stirring. Want to go to Denny’s for breakfast and escape the family for a little while?”

Grandpa grinned back at Susan, reached into his pocket, and tossed the car keys to her. “Let’s get going,” was his reply.

* * *

The ride to Denny’s was silent but companionable. Susan’s thoughts drifted to the ending of her junior year at university and the decision she had made. Now would be a good time to tell Grandpa…away from the family.

She knew he would support her decision just as he had been a support for Grandma all those many years before she died. Susan had made another decision. She was transferring to the local university so she could be at home every day instead of week-ends and summers. She worried too much about her grandpa living alone while she was away at the university 120 miles away. He wasn’t the kind of person to have asked her to make either decision, but she knew he would be happy with both of her decisions.

* * *

When Susan and Grandpa got back to the house the family had gathered in the dining room. Susan’s father and her two aunts were seated around the dining room table talking. When Susan and her grandpa entered the room, Susan’s Aunt Lena and Aunt Marie stopped talking and glared at her. Her father looked anywhere but at Susan.  Susan knew what they had been talking about—the same thing they talked about each year on this date for the last three years—Grandma’s gravesite visit.

This was the reason for their annual visit with their own families each year. It was never a happy occasion for Susan and Grandpa. In fact her relatives did nothing but upset Grandpa and make Susan mad. They knew from the get-go that Grandma would have disliked this “family ritual” yet they insisted. They’re selfish, that’s what Susan thought.

“Where have you been?” Aunt Lena angrily asked. “We have been sitting here waiting for over two hours. You know we are supposed to leave for the cemetery and you take our Dad and just up and do a disappearing act!”

“You know we all have airline flights scheduled and delaying the visit could just make problems for us. We all have to go home today and your delaying tactics are not going to keep us from going to the cemetery. We made this clear to you over the phone before we left home, didn’t we?” Aunt Marie’s voice was calm but had a hint of steel in her tone.  If Grandma were alive my aunts wouldn’t dare talk like this, Susan thought.

Susan waited to see if her Dad would come to her defense. No such luck. He was staring out the window trying to pretend he wasn’t sitting in that chair and didn’t hear his sisters yelling at her. Why did he even bother to show up? Privately he had told Susan he had wanted Grandma’s wishes honored, but he had always allowed his sisters to bully him. Maybe he was just too nice like Grandpa?

Susan looked at her grandpa and noticed he had raised his right hand in a motion for everyone to be quiet. “Get me a chair, Grubbie.” Grandpa had started calling Susan this nickname when at the age of two she had started digging around with Grandma in the rose garden.  Susan pulled out a chair and her grandpa sat down and leaned forward resting on his cane.

“Tom! Marie! Lena! I had a heart attack when your mother died and I was in hospital when the three of you decided to give your mother a Christian burial. Susan here read you your Mother’s Muslim will and all three of you ignored it. You were plain selfish back then, thinking only of yourselves and each year you show up here and are selfish all over again!

“But Dad…” Marie sputtered.

Susan’s grandfather said loudly, “Enough! I am doing the talking.”

Susan remembered sitting in this same room more than three years ago arguing with her two aunts and her Dad sitting there, as usual, saying nothing. She had opened the will her grandmother had given to her for safe keeping and read it to them. Her grandmother had requested a Muslim funeral and burial. All the contact names and even the plot of land in the Muslim cemetery had been paid for and reserved. Her aunts had refused to pay any heed to their Mother’s will and requests. Susan’s dad had made a weak effort to reason with his sisters, but they had shouted him down and he’d done the usual, just clammed up and didn’t say anything else. Susan hadn’t been able to do anything to stop their plans then and the Christian funeral had taken place while Grandpa was still in the hospital.

For the last two years her relatives had come back to the family home and did the ritual visit to Grandma’s grave. Each year her aunts had cut roses from Grandma’s rose garden and taken them to the cemetery. Each year Susan got angrier and angrier with them.

“Years before your Mother died you were all too busy to come and visit her. Her grandchildren married and had babies and not one of you had the decency to bring those babies here for her to hold and love. Knowing she was too ill to travel, yet, you still went about your lives not thinking of your Mother. Did you think she would live forever in her state of poor health? Now that she is gone, you want to bring her roses. Roses from her own garden which she never cut and put on any grave. Yet, you come to my home, and it is still my home, and cut her roses and take them to that cemetery where you know she didn’t want to be buried!” Grandpa paused to catch his breath.

Susan looked at her aunts and Dad. Her aunts sat with their heads bowed and silent tears rolling down their cheeks. My Gosh! Susan silently exclaimed. There were tears in her dad’s eyes, too! 

Grandpa continued, “Last year and the year before I should have spoken up. I wanted you all to visit and tried to avoid unpleasantness. It was wrong of me to stay silent.  This is your home always and I want you all to come and visit, but do not expect Susan and I to join you at the cemetery. The time for bringing your mother roses was while she lived.”

Grandpa looked over at Susan and spoke to her directly, “There won’t be any roses for your grandma today.” 

He got up slowly from his chair, looked at each of his children and said, “I’m going to take a nap until lunch. We can talk then if you want.”  His children nodded their heads and murmured their apologies.

* * *

Susan sat in Grandma’s recliner reading aloud to Grandpa one of the story books Grandma had written so many years ago. Grandpa sat in his recliner opposite her and chuckled now and then at the antics of the book characters. “Your grandma sure could write some good stories for kids, even big kids like your old Grandpa.”

“I know. I think I’ve read these books a hundred times and I still enjoy them.” Susan paused in her reading to reply and then smiled at her Grandpa.

“Have you decided yet about wearing a head covering?” Grandpa asked Susan.

“I was thinking I’d try it out this summer. Kinda of get used to it before school starts in the Fall.”

“You know your Grandma prayed every day for you. For all of us. I think she knew you were Muslim before you knew you were Muslim, Susan.”

“I think so, too” Susan replied with a catch in her voice.

“I have a surprise for you.” Grandpa handed Susan a square bundle wrapped in tissue paper.

Susan took the bundle and carefully opened the layers of tissue. Inside was Grandma’s very first hijab scarf…the one she wore the day she said Shahada.

“Your Grandma asked me to save this for you.”

“Oh Grandpa! Dearest Grandma!” were the only words Susan could manage as her heart was too full of joy to say more.