She was eight but, to her Grandma, she seemed to be carrying the weight of the world, “Why so sad, Debbie?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Are you thinking about Michael?”
Debbie’s sobs increased, “He shouldn’t have died. He was my best friend.”
Grandma knew the loss we can feel when accident takes someone close, “Close you eyes. Tell me about Michael.”
Debbie recounted good times and bad, Grandma laughing and crying with her, “As long as you hold your memories and love of your friend, he’ll always be with you.”
Many years passed. Debbie sat with her grandson. History repeated.
She remembered, “My Grandma always told me…”
This photo is not to be copied without written permission.
Ross's Writing Blog 
Viki
March 9, 2013 at 06:50
This was so heartwarming and lovely. Great take.
Ross Mannell
March 21, 2013 at 08:26
Thanks for the comment.
The lady in the photo is my grandmother and the little girl her stepsister we grew to know as Aunty Amy. I have been recently scanning old family photos and negatives when this one coincidentally turned up as I was thinking of writing the Centus. The story fell into place. 🙂
Jenny Matlock
March 9, 2013 at 11:00
We’ve been dealing with a death issue with Grandlittles lately.
I keep repeating this truth to the girls, but it’s hard for the six year old to grasp.
Such a poignant and bittersweet use of this prompt.
Thank you for sharing your unique viewpoint!
Ross Mannell
March 21, 2013 at 08:38
Thanks for the comment.
Yes, it’s sad at that age they don’t really understand. In a recent movie, “Safe Haven”, two children, one seven and one ten, were dealing with their loss of their mother about a year before. Father had explained the boy (10) remembered his mother but the girl (7) only remembered the idea of her mother. I think it was a good way of explaining the levels of understanding. 🙂