A/N: This was actually a quick little thing I wrote a few weeks ago, primarily inspired by my own grandparents. Prompt for the day was "old/goodbyes," and I thought this oneshot fit both themes pretty well. -CCM

Live, Love, and Let Go

It was a blustery winter evening that I stopped by the home shared with my grandmother and younger brother, just as I had finished up work at the clinic for the day. My short chestnut-brown hair blew into my face as I stopped at the front door, struggling for a moment to balance the basket of baked goods I was carrying in one hand while wrapping the other around the doorknob to pull it open. It was that evening, I walked into an unusually silent room without so much as the crackling of a fire in the fireplace or the gentle click-clack of Grandma's knitting needles.

It was that evening, that memory burned into my mind, I still wish I could forget.

"Grandma? Grandma Ellen, I'm home!"

I paused in the doorway to kick the snow off my boots, then froze completely. Something didn't seem right.

"Grandma?"

My basket clattered to the ground at my feet, scattering a few crumbled cookies across the floor.

"Grandma!"

The elderly woman sat deathly still in her rocking chair, no gentle swaying back and forth as usual. The terror in my heart growing, I ran to her, and her wrinkled eyelids fluttered once as I approached. Her lips formed whispered words, barely comprehensible.

"Elli…"

The corners of her mouth turned upward in a weak smile, and I held my breath as she looked up at me with squinted eyes. I always knew she was frail, confined to her chair in illness and old age, but now she looked especially vulnerable, exhausted.

"You're a... good girl..."

With shaking hands, I gently pressed my fingers to her aged knuckles, and felt the faint warmth of life leave them.

No...

In her lap lay a pair of recently completed knit socks, deep red in color; I picked them up with trembling hands, paying no attention to the knitting needles that clattered to the floor as I brushed against them, but could barely see the stockings as anything more than a scarlet blur through the tears that suddenly filled my eyes.

The world was swimming around me, sending the room spinning. It was dizzying, and in that moment I thought I might be sick.

It couldn't be true, could it?

oOoOo

I sat at the dinner table, hands clasped firmly together on its surface, knuckles turning white as though squeezing them tighter would force some calm into me. Stop them from shaking so much.

A sudden sound at the door startled me, and finally I looked up, blinking. Stu stood waiting before me with a look of glee on his face, though it soon gave way to confusion after a quick survey of the room.

"Hi, Elli…" he glanced toward the back corner where she always sat, knitting needles in hand. The knitting needles that were still lying haphazardly on the floor where I had let them fall, just in front of her now-empty rocking chair.

My heart ached at the memories.

"Where's Grandma?"

His questioning voice jolted me back to reality. I had planned out exactly what I was going to say at that moment – "Stu, there's something I have to tell you… Grandma is…" – but suddenly the words got caught in my throat and it was like I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and the tears kept falling down my face even though I couldn't remember starting to cry in the first place -

Stu ran forward to hold my clammy white hands and I fought hard to smile at him through the tears.

The truth hurts more that you would ever imagine.

oOoOo

"...Why did she have to die?"

I struggled with the wording of my question, as I didn't want to say it at all, regardless of whether or not I should. If I admitted that Ellen had passed away out loud, it would only reinforce the fact of the matter in my mind - that she was undeniably, irreversibly gone. Even though the truth had been right in front of my face; my hand had been in hers when her spirit left us.

But there was no denying it in the end.

Slumped in a chair at the clinic, I watched Doctor Trent for a response, anything, but the young dark-haired man hesitated to meet my pleading gaze, choosing to focus instead on the papers in his hand; as though those were somehow more important than my feelings, than the hopelessness I felt inside.

When he finally looked back at me, his dark eyes were filled with the last emotion I wanted from him. Pity.

He sighed, shaking his head.

"Ellen was very old, and not nearly as healthy as she once was…" I turned away, eyes squeezed shut in a vain attempt to conceal the tears that I could already feel wetting my cheeks. "You know that, Elli. It was just her time. And it was bound to happen soon enough."

Trent said it so matter-of-factly, my breath hitched in my throat in shock. Ever since I had first met him, I respected and admired the doctor more than anything, and now I could barely stand to look at him. What did he know?

I couldn't stop the irrationally bitter feelings from welling up inside of me, blending with my sadness, as I turned away from him. The man who stood there in front of me as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and my heart didn't feel as though it had been reduced to one shattered, empty shell. She... had been everything to me, growing up. Who had he ever lost in his life?

Just because it was "her time" to go, doesn't mean it hurt any less when that time finally came.

...It wasn't fair. Why did things have to change? Why did our loved ones have to leave us?

oOoOo

At the church of the Harvest Goddess, everyone is dressed all in black, contrasting sharply with the pristine white blanket of snow outside, which would have looked pretty had it not been such a sad day. A few have silent tears streaming down their faces, but by now, I have none left to spare.

During the funeral, I squeeze Stu's hand in mine the entire time, as though fearful of letting him go. I can't lose him, too.

Usually he complains when I make him hold my hand, but this time, he doesn't seem to mind.

The funeral proceedings are short and sweet, just as Grandma would have wanted, I'm sure. By the time it's over, I remain sitting in the front row of pews just in front of her coffin at the altar, barely noticing as everyone else gets up to leave. Some of them approach me, offering their most sincere, heartfelt condolences, but their voices barely register in my mind, and I feel as though I'm trapped in a dream. A hazy, almost nightmarish sort of dream, where nothing feels quite right but I can't manage to wake up and escape back into reality.

Because this is reality, and in the back of my mind I realize that I have to face it.

Stu had already left with his best friend May and her grandfather, and the pastor Carter promptly withdrew into the back room of the church to give me the space and time he knows I need. I am sure I'm the only one left, lost in my thoughts and memories.

And because I think I am alone, I don't immediately notice the footsteps making their way steadily toward the front of the room until they stop right behind me.

"I'm sorry, Elli."

I recognize the voice, and slowly turn around to see Jack, the young brown-haired farmer, looking somewhat out of place in a neat black suit rather than his usual worn blue jean overalls. To my surprise, his eyes are brimming with what are unmistakably tears.

"...I-I know it hurts," Jack says to me, speaking tentatively, keeping his distance but offering comfort all the same, "I've experienced it myself. With my grandfather. But think of it this way – Ellen is at peace. She had been old and hurting for a long time, but now she's finally free from such suffering. And... she's not gone forever; her spirit will live on, in all of us."

Hesitantly, I turn and set my hand on the smooth mahogany surface of my grandmother's coffin, staring at the small bouquet of white flowers that had been placed on top.

"So... If you ever need anything, anything at all, just let me know. I'll be there for you."

I find myself nodding, still watching her coffin; he was right. Grandma was at peace – and now it was time to make my own peace, and move on.

"I love you, Grandma Ellen," I whisper, only for the two of us to hear. "I'll be sure to make you proud."

That evening, Jack helps me hang her hand-knit red stockings over the fireplace, and with Stu, we share a meal afterward; just the three of us. The holidays feels lonely without her presence in the home, as though a vital piece is missing, but I know now that she will be with us always in spirit.

Life goes on, whether you're ready for it or not. It's not easy, but you're not alone. Sometimes you just need someone there for you, to help you cope when things get tough.

Goodbyes are always difficult, but you have to learn to live, love, and let go.