Two weeks ago today my grandmother passed away. She wasn’t an organ donor, she was a faithful Christian woman who never went a day without a little gold cross dangling from her neck.

Her name was Ginger, as long as i could remember she had short, black hair and the bluest eyes i had ever seen. She made chocolate chip cookies and the best cornbread i’ve ever tasted. Once an elementary teacher, she helped raise me while my parents were off working. In her care i learned to read and write before many other kids in my pre-k classroom. I had toys and books to read, a bike to ride, and a nan who would pour me a glass of lemonade when the september sun got too hot.

She never wanted to go along with the new laws regarding bodies. she wanted to be free as the wind. Her ashes to be spread over her picket fence, in her rose garden, kept by the bedside next to her husband. This was never her original plan, she had a casket picked out since the 90’s, but slowly and slowly, cemeteries became crowded and nobody wanted to make room for more people, so the ban on burial began. She wanted to lie next to her mom and sisters, but she died years too late for that to be a possibility.

I like to remember her in the springtime. Sitting in the sun, under the milky blue sky, reading another novel from the library. Iced tea in hand, the smell of fresh cut grass, lawnmowers humming, birds chirping. The all clear signal that the dark days are over for this year.

As my mind wanders to her memory, what i am really doing sinks in. I had done the grunt work, finding a casket at an abandoned mortuary, picking the spot, attempting to craft a headstone. I had done a lot of the hard work as well, being in a medical profession, her body was nearly too easy to sneak out, I had to look her in the face as i attempted to embalm and sew her mouth shut. Kissing her pearls left to me in the estate goodbye.

Now it’s just me and the hole. I never understood how deep 6 feet was until i had to stand in a hole of that size. I never understood how heavy it would truly be to lower her into this shabby grave. She would have never wanted this. it almost feels disgraceful. she was a lawful woman. I will be charged with a felony if anyone finds out.

I lower her casket first, then place her with grace into it. I climb back out after closing the lid and i start shoveling again. this time saying goodbye to nan.

I hope this is what she wanted.

As i finish my shoveling, I see flashlights darting between bushes, how did anyone find me out here? I load my vehicle and begin to leave.