Margaret Ann was ten years old when her grandmother passed. It had not been expected. A surprise to the end of a normal weekend at Granny's.
Margaret, or Maggie, as she was called by her grandmother, spent the entire weekend at Granny Malone's along with her sister, Elanor Marie.
Granny Malone was Maggie's mother's mother. Granny lived in a cottage in the woods a couple hours away from Maggie's home in the city.
The drive always seemed too long or perhaps it was Maggie's impatience to see her Granny.
It took thirty minutes to get outside the city. Her mother's old, red mini-van sputtered through toll roads. The radio played classic rock, her father's default station of choice.
"Margaret? Ellie? Are you excited to see Granny?" Her father in the driver's seat of the van spoke as he adjusted the rearview mirror, taking a quick glance at the two children buckled up in the back seat.
Elanor giggled from her booster seat, kicking her legs as she nodded. Her shoes lit up at the movement, adding to her excitement.
The little girl babbled, stuttering as she exclaimed. "Yeah! Gonna see Granny!"
Her mother looked up from her phone and turned to face the back seat. "You're a big girl now, so you have to wear your big girl undies when you go to bed time."
Elanor's kicking slowed as she turned to look out the window. The cars on the road had lessened and more greenery could be seen out the van window. The young girl's eyes followed the passing vehicles.
"Yeah." Her response was a whisper as the scenery took her attention.
Their mother turned to Margaret, who had yet to respond to her father. Both hands still on the steering wheel, he glanced at Margaret from the rearview mirror.
"Mags? Honey? You excited?"
The ten year old didn't hear her parents over her music playing through her headphones. She tapped the buttons of her game console excitedly, her level almost clear. She didn't even look up as her mother tapped her knee.
"Yeah?" She responded, her voice louder than normal so she could hear herself over the video game music.
"Are you excited to see Gran?" Her mother's voice responded just as loudly and Margaret nodded, still not removing her eyes from the game.
The console wasn't allowed to stay at Granny's, so she had to hurry up and beat the level before they got there.
The car ride continued much the same for the next hour and a half. The girls stayed the night at Granny's about once a month, giving their parents a weekend off, though it was often framed that Granny missed her grandbabies and needed to see them rather than her parents having a date night or two.
The trees framed the road, getting taller and thicker - older. The two lane road had become a one way as gravel crunched under the mini-van's tires. Margaret took off her headphones and turned off her video game. Glancing to her left, her sister was asleep in her booster seat. Her mother scrolled on her phone and her father tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat of the car dealership commercial that played on the radio.
The trees were thick in this part of the journey. Margaret rolled down her window and rested her chin on her arm as the wind blew through her hair and against her face. The air smelled cleaner than the city's. Crisper. Greener. Earthy.
The setting sun peered through the limbs of the trees and flickered against her face. The blue sky turned pink and purple, looking almost magical through the forest.
Two deer looked up from eating to the van as it rode by, frozen in place until the vehicle passed. Margaret wondered what they thought of her, if they thought anything at all. Or if they were faeries or those monsters who can change their appearance and voice.
It seemed like anything could be possible in Granny's little cottage in the woods.
Summer meant warmer weather. The cooling breeze would sift gently through the few trees on Granny's property - acting as a magic circle in the forest.
Granny's cottage had been in the family for a couple of generations. Off a dirt road, you would meet a small garden gate. At one time, it had probably been white but, like the rest of the small home, it was faded and well-worn.
An apple tree grew near the garden gate. Granny planted it the year Margaret's mother was born and now her grandchildren climbed the tree and plucked ripe (or sometimes not-so-ripe) apples from it in the fall. It was still summer however and Margaret hoped to at least smell the blossoms.
In her mind's eye, Margaret could already see Granny sweeping the porch with her old straw broom, all the bristles bent at an angle. The open door would allow the scent of fresh baked bread to waft through into the garden. Or maybe Granny baked those tea cookies the girls liked.
A kettle was always on the gas stove (left back burner) ready for making a cup of tea to go with whatever had been baked. Dried or drying herbs would be hung along the clothesline pinned to the kitchen wall. Lavender, rosemary, dill, mint, basil.
Canning jars lined the shelf along the kitchen ceiling, various shapes and sizes. Used for preserving vegetables, soups, balms, or tinctures. Granny's mother had taught her a lot about natural medicine through plants and while that sounded cool in theory, when Margaret told her friends, none of them ever actually had to take a willow tincture for a headache before.
She did not recommend it.
The minivan slowed as it took a curve, hugging the gravel road. The slow drive still allowed the breeze to blow through Margaret's hair, both easing her mind and curating an adventure she planned to have in the woods and in the garden.
Perhaps she would be a faerie queen. Having tea in buttercups and bread with jam and honey. Or maybe she would be one of the little folk who lived in and under the hills, making potions of her own.
Maybe she would find a good walking stick in the forest and become an elf maiden, keeping an eye on animals and nature, protecting the peace with her magic and strength.
Elanor could follow along. Or play games in Granny's living room with the toys she had kept from when their Mother was a little girl. Elanor would make a great member of the little folk, living in the garden and trading potions for flowers and magic wands.
Thinking back, Margaret pictured her grandmother again, sweeping the porch with that old broom. Her white hair would be in its usual braid, long and over her shoulder. Her faded housedress would be protected by an old apron covered in flour from whatever she had made for the girls. Green slippers had been the old woman's default house-shoes for years and Margaret Ann couldn't remember her owning another color.
Perhaps, years ago, when Poppa had been alive and well, Granny had worn a different pair. Margaret Ann's grandfather passed away some years prior. Margaret remembered that he liked it when she sat in lap with him in his favorite chair and read stories together, often stealing a cookie before supper. His favorite stories were fantasy, stories of far distant lands with kings and dwarves and elves and magic.
Margaret missed her Poppa. He always made her feel special and loved. He had always helped Granny make the cottage feel like a magical place with treasures and adventures. She remembered that he too had long hair, just past his shoulders, that he would let little Margaret braid as he read his chapter books and drank his tea. He would sit, patiently at the kitchen table as Margaret stood behind him on another kitchen chair, playing hair salon with his soft, white hair.
Lately, it seemed that Granny was missing Poppa a lot. Last visit Margaret had caught Granny having a conversation with Poppa, who obviously was not there, in the kitchen while she washed the dishes in the porcelain sink. She even acted as if he had responded to her, a ghost that only the old woman could hear.
Maybe Poppa still stayed in that cottage, invisible but comforting poor, lonely Granny. Or maybe Granny was just "getting old" as Margaret's parents suggested.
Thinking back to that day, Margaret even witnessed Granny making an extra cup of tea that morning and placing it at Poppa's old place at the kitchen table. When Margaret pointed it out, Granny laughed and said that sometimes even old ladies like to play pretend.
The cup remained untouched during breakfast but had been gone from the table before lunch.
Granny would even sometimes just stare into the garden from the kitchen window, fiddling with her wedding ring that she now wore on a necklace and humming songs that Margaret didn't know the words to. These were small moments that Margaret, though she wasn't sure she understood them, held close.
Margaret hoped that Granny seeing her and Elanor would cheer her up and make her less lonely. She would ask Granny if they could have tea and cookies in the garden or a picnic in the forest together. Elanor would probably like that too. Maybe Granny could make them flower crowns out of honeysuckle vines or dandelions. They could be knights visiting the Queen of the Forest.
The girl's mind wandered again.
She would ask Granny to take her on a walk and gather plants for magic potions. Elanor would like that. Granny would make them flower rings and they could have tea and cookies in the kitchen when they were done. Granny would let Elanor pick an old vinyl record to put on the equally old record player as they cleaned up.
Christmas songs would play through the staticy speakers and lyrics of snow would fill up the cottage, even on a summer day.
It would be lovely and enchanting, even if Margaret Ann was growing up. Even as she was outgrowing imagination and stories of kings and queens and wizards. She didn't know that this weekend with Granny would be her last. She didn't know that she would almost lose all her own wonder and magic.
Margaret Ann was ten years old when her grandmother passed.