just you and me

I walked into the room and found her in the green chair. Dad was kneeling beside her, holding her hand. The television was tuned to the rebroadcast. I paused for a moment and then walked towards her. Hugging her gently I said, "It's me, Grandma. Martha." As her blue eyes gazed up at me she said, "Oh, hello dear. Let's go into the other room. Just you and me." I helped her up, and together we walked. She sat in her chair and I sidled another up beside her. Feeling one wasn't good enough, feeling as if I held them in mine I could keep her with me forever, I reached across and took both of her hands. I squeezed them gently and rested them in her lap. We sat beside the big front window for a long while, the Sunday afternoon sunshine streaming in. We talked about the past and she told me what she hoped for in my future. Not wanting to let go, tears rolled freely out and down both sides of my cheeks. I felt them curl under my chin. "Make this go on forever," I thought.