Based on the aftermath of my paternal grandmother's battle with parkinsons' disease. Two young sisters, Annie and Chrissy, cope with the turmoil created by their dying grandmother and find hope in a gift their parents view as a painful reminder of promises unfulfilled.

by Andrea Graham © 2005 Annie and her little sister, Chrissie, sat on the floor as they watched Macys' Thanksgiving Day Parade because the couch was piled high with boxes of dusty old magazines and lawn decorations. Annie only liked the last part of the parade where Santa Claus appeared, but watched the rest anyway because there was nothing else to do. Without cable, the little black-and-white TV only picked up one station. Their mother roused the two girls before dawn that day. They slept in the car on the way, then in the bed where their mother now folded laundry as she grumbled under her breath. Grampa sat at his workbench, a blank stare frozen on his face. His tools laid unused, as they had for months. The smelly old lady lay in the other bed. Off and on, the bed shook and squeaked, followed by some moans and groans. Annie's father would then say, "Speak up, Mom, I can't understand you." Despite his angry tone, her daddy never left the bedside. That funny look on his face had been etched there for months now Annie could remember a time long ago when the old lady didn't just lie in bed, but that was her real grandmother: the sweet, kind Grandma who took care of her, baked yummy goodies, and gave her candy and presents. But Grandma was gone, replaced by the smelly old lady. She knew intellectually the woman in that bed was her grandmother, but she seemed like a stranger. It'd been so long, poor Chrissie could barely remember their real Grandma. Seeing a clear place on the bed her mother was working on, Annie got up and planted herself in it. She leaned in to hear the old lady's weak voice. "Joe, as soon as I get better, I'm going to make you and the girls a pineapple upside-down cake." Annie turned to her mother. "Mom, what's a-" Her mother cut her off. "Go watch TV, Annie. I'll tell you later." Annie got up and settled back down next to Chrissie, folding her arms in a pout.   Three days later, after dinner, Annie played in her room with Chrissie and their dolls. Off and on, muffled voices in the living room came up through the furnace vent. Chrissie looked troubled. Maybe she had a bad day at school. After several minutes, one voice grew louder. "Joe, I am sick and tired of this! The next time your father asks for help cleaning his house, YOU do it! I'm not doing it any more. I work, too..." She lowered her voice after that. In a moment, the other voice responded, but Annie had gone back to concentrating on playing with the dolls. Again, shouting interrupted them. "Oh, just go to bed, Joe. That's what you always do." This was followed by a muffled roar and pounding feet. A moment later, the door to her parent's bedroom whipped open and slammed shut again. With a funny look on her face, Chrissie turned back to the green doll in her hand. He had been arguing with Mrs. Gardener just a moment before, and now Chrissie took his right hand and began to beat the poor rabbit. Annie picked up her red doll and had him casually stroll by and glance in the pretend house. She then flew the doll in, and pulled the green doll away from Mrs. Gardener, who lay motionless on the floor. In the red doll's voice, she said, "No, Patty, no. Don't do it, don't do this." Her sister let go of the green doll and burst into tears.