The sound of the lawn mower caught Ethel’s attention as she was having her morning coffee. She looked out the front bay window, squinting her eyes to try and make out the fellow cutting her grass. He couldn’t be her son—this fellow was tall and string bean lean, wearing a Kelly green Eagles cap. Pepper, her brownish cocker spaniel, barked to be picked up.
“Ok, dear, let’s look out the screen door and thank our visitor.”
Ethel waved at the older gentleman, frantically trying to get his attention as he methodically paced the lawn in neat rows as he walked behind the gas mower.
“You-Hoo!” she called. “Landscaper!”
The stranger finally noticed the woman and shut down the noisy engine.
“Why, it’s your Uncle Andy!” she said to Pepper. “Andy! I haven’t seen you in ages! Where have you been?”
“Oh, I’ve been dead, sis,” he called back. “Figured I would give you a hand. No problem… No problem at all. Does me good to get a little exercise.” With that, he pulled out a white hanky from his back pocket and wiped his sweaty brow. “It sure is getting warm out here.”
“Don’t you overdo it! I’ll bring you some lemonade to help you cool off a bit,” she offered.
“Much obliged, sis,” he replied, starting up the mower again.
Ethel found the full pitcher of ice-cold lemonade in the refrigerator and dropped a pair of ice cubes into a tall drinking glass, which she filled to the brim. She quickly walked it to the front of the house, where she opened the screen door and called for Andy again. But as soon as she opened the door, he vanished into thin air, mower and all, like wispy smoke sent to the heavens above.
“Oh, that’s right… I forgot,” she mumbled to herself, placing the glass of lemonade on a small tray table on the porch.
She scurried back inside the door, chasing Pepper in. “Get in there, you little devil! Where do you think you’re going?”
As soon as she shut the screen door, her brother reappeared on the lawn with the mower, just as he had been before.
“Andy, I left a cold drink on the porch for you. Come and get it,” she called out.
“I will. I want to finish up here, then I’ll come up and sit a spell. It sure is warm for April!”
********
Later in the day, Ethel was in the kitchen feeding Pepper supper, when her son came in with two bags of groceries.
“Hello, Mom,” he greeted, kissing her on the cheek. “How are you today? That new screen door is squeaking. I’ll find the WD-40 and fix it before I leave. “
He put the groceries on the kitchen counter. “The TV dinners were on sale. I stocked you up pretty well. Chicken, roast beef, meat loaf…”
“Thank you, sweetie. It beats cooking, especially since there’s only one to cook for.”
“Listen, Mom, I was going to cut the grass this Saturday, but I see it’s already been cut…”
“Yes, your Uncle Andy stopped by and took care of it. It was good to see him again.”
Paul stopped and stared at the tile floor while his mother put the groceries away.
“Mom, did you say ‘Uncle Andy’?”
“Yes? Why?”
“But Mom, Uncle Andy died over thirty years ago. I was just a kid when it happened.”
“I know, dear, but he insisted on cutting the grass,” she said, putting a carton of eggs in the refrigerator. “I warned him not to overdo it.”
Uh-oh, thought the son. Is Mom losing it? He knew she’d been depressed since his father’s untimely death last winter. She seemed to be better, a bit more cheerful, like the old Mom he knew and loved. He had worried about Mom needing physical help as she aged. She used a cane, but she was doing pretty well for an eighty-four-year-old woman, considering everything. He never thought he would have to worry about her mental acuity. She had always been as sharp as a tack. However, Alzheimer’s did run in the family. His Aunt Gail suffered from the disease up until her death.
“Mom, did you ever have a chance to look over those brochures I brought over last week?” Paul asked gently.
“You mean the ones for that assisted living facility?” she asked. “Paul, I’m sure it’s a very nice place. And I appreciate your concern. But I can’t see myself going there. What would I do all day? Play Bingo and bocce ball with a bunch of old people?”
Same Mom. She never did think of herself as old. She loved her Bingo back in the day. He had encouraged her to try the senior center downtown. They offered all kinds of activities to keep busy, including Bingo. She could get a hot meal every day, as opposed to eating TV dinners. Most of all, she would have company, someone other than Pepper to talk to.
“Mom, don’t you get lonely here by yourself? At least at Golden Horizons you wouldn’t have to worry about being alone, or taking care of the house, or cooking, or the lawn, for that matter. Everything is done for you. Now that Jason left for college it’s going to be harder to keep up repairs here.”
“I’m not lonely, dear. I’ve got Pepper. And there are people always stopping by. Plus, if I went into that retirement community—or whatever you call it—what would I do with poor Pepper? We have been through too much together to be apart now. Wherever I go, she goes too.”
“No problem. They allow dogs in the apartments,” Paul answered. “What’s wrong, Mom? You still look upset.”
“Paul, I don’t want to leave my house,” she stated firmly. “Neither does Pepper. It’s where I lived with your father for sixty years. I don’t want to leave the memories behind. My furniture… There’s no way we could ever cram three stories worth of memories into a small apartment.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “You call them memories; I call it junk. A lot of this stuff, especially in the basement and attic, you don’t use anymore. And that’s the other thing; the steps. God forbid, Mom, I come over and find that you fell down the stairs. How do you think I would feel?”
“Oh, Paulie, don’t be silly. I’ve been up and down those stairs hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of times in my life,” she replied.
“But you were younger then, Mom.”
“I wear the button you got me,” she insisted. “The ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up’ button. I’m really okay. You don’t understand, dear… the memories are here. And it’s not just the furniture. We lived here, all together. We had Sunday dinners and cook-outs with your Aunt Gail and Uncle Andy. We had family reunions here. All those memories from christenings, anniversaries, celebrations and holidays. Don’t you remember every Christmas opening the presents in the living room, packed with family, the house filled with the aroma of turkey? I don’t want to leave those memories behind. Maybe that’s why they are coming back. Maybe, if I leave… they will disappear too.”
“You’ll always carry those memories in your heart. It’s just that, sometimes we need to move on with life,” Paul said.
“It’s only been four months, dear, “she reasoned. “We all grieve in our own way. There is no time frame when it comes to grief. I’m not ready to move on yet.”
“When is the last time you left the house since Pop died?” he asked. “I bet, other than going out on the porch to sit, the answer is never.”
“But I don’t need to leave the house, dear,” she replied. “They come to me.”
“If you mean the paperboy, the grocery delivery and the mailman, then yes. I just don’t want you to isolate yourself from the world.”
All the same, Paul decided to make an appointment with her primary care physician, Dr. Langdon, for a wellness check-up. He could run some tests and find out if his mother’s cognitive ability was slipping. Maybe he could also persuade her into giving the assisted living facility a try. Older people tend to listen to their doctor, even more than family, so why not let her doc make the tough decision for her. Leave her house and move into a place where she can be looked after—doctor’s orders.
********
The next morning, bright and early, after a liquid gold sunrise explosion over the eastern horizon, Ethel hoisted Pepper into her arms and they looked out the bay window. There was an older woman on her hands and knees in the front garden, planting spring flowers around the pond. Ethel immediately recognized the familiar face.
“Gail!” she called out the screen door.
“Oh, good morning, Ethel! How do you like the marigolds? Pretty, aren’t they? I think the orange and yellow look nice together. Brightens up the place, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does,” Ethel agreed. “It’s so thoughtful of you. I would give you a big hug if I could.”
“I know,” Gail sighed. “We used to hug all the time. I miss that. But those are the rules.”
“Gail, how’s Edgar doing?”
“He’s fine,” she replied, shielding her eyes from the intense sun.
“Ask him to come see me sometime.”
“I will, dear. Sit out on the porch some evening and you never know. He might just come by. It’s getting nice out now. The air is fresh and clean. Everything is waking up and coming back to life again.”
********
This interaction with deceased relatives continued all summer long. For instance, Uncle Eddie showed up one day to repair the broken rain spout which overflowed after a thunderstorm. Cousin Marie dropped by one morning, leaving a basket of fresh sweet corn on the doorstep. It seemed like everyone was chipping in to help Ethel. She never knew who might visit each day. Sometimes Andy or Gail would come by just to say hello and check on her welfare. Sometimes a long lost relative from as far back as the colonial times would appear, introduce themselves and make acquaintances.
All the while, Paul was at his wits’ end trying to figure out who was helping his mother all summer. Probably some handyman she had hired. All she would reveal was, “Oh, Aunt Jennie brought that homemade marmalade” or “Your great-great-great grandfather Thomas stopped over recently to show me the new white horse he just purchased.” Funny, Paul still did all of the inside work, like changing lightbulbs, but the outside chores were always completed by… someone.
He had to admit- the once old, crumbling property that his father left sure looked spic and span, even the new paint job on the porch-supposedly done by late nephew Harold, spruced up the place like it had never been before.
********
Summer was winding down. It was getting dark earlier in the evenings, and there was a chill in the night air, a sure sign that fall was just around the corner. Pretty soon, the dried, crispy leaves would begin to pile up on the lawn; the cooler breeze would unclothe the trees, scattering spinning leaves and pieces of tree branches up and down the once leafy-green avenue.
Starting in September, right around Labor Day, no one visited anymore. Funny how Ethel had seemed to take the ghostly visits for granted. Now, she was surprised when a late relative did not show up to visit. Maybe her ghostly relatives went into hibernation for the upcoming winter? She longed to see them just one more time before she left her house for Golden Horizons. She’d reluctantly agreed to admission after Dr. Langdon diagnosed her with early Dementia. Until there was an opening, the community social worker, Miss Wilson, was dropping by every week to check on her welfare. Everything was set. Now, all they waited for was an open bed.
How sad to be leaving her home. Even her memories would soon fade away.
They all thought her ghostly visits were a part of her illness. Delusions. Long ago memories resurfacing one last time. Funny how she could remember her past memories yet struggled to recall what she had for breakfast that morning. Even she began to wonder if all those interactions were just her imagination.
Real or imagined, there was one person she missed, one person who failed to visit, one person who she thought had forgotten her. That is until one frosty morning…
The day started like any other. Ethel and Pepper were up at the crack of dawn, only there wasn’t much of a sunrise to see. A cold, drizzly rain engulfed the little town, turning the early morning into a damp, miserable mess. Ethel had developed a cough and a fever; even poor Pepper sneezed now and then. Ethel made herself a cup of hot tea with lemon and honey, sure it would ease her sore throat. She thought about calling Paul at work, asking him to take her to the doctor for a check-up, but she didn’t want to bother him. It’s only a cold, she thought. She could shake the sudden chills in her warm bed with Pepper. That was the plan: spend the day in bed and rest.
It was then she heard a faint knock on the door.
Standing on the porch was Edgar, her late husband, looking very much alive.
“Edgar!” she yelled. “Look who it is, Pepper! It’s your Daddy!”
She forgot herself and opened the screen door to hug him, and he vanished. She closed the door and there he was again, smiling under his trademark, familiar fishing hat.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“Ready to go?” she repeated.
“Yes. Ready to go with me.”
“Where are we going, Edgar?”
“To Heaven,” he replied.” This morning, I got word to come and get you.”
“I can’t open the screen door because then you’ll be gone again,” Ethel claimed.
“I can open the door from the outside,” Edgar replied.
“Can Pepper come too?”
“Of course. All dogs go to Heaven. Hello, Pepper old boy! Did you miss me?” Pepper sniffed at the screen door, wagging his tail as he recognized Edgar’s scent.
Ethel hesitated a moment. Even though she missed her late husband, even though she couldn’t wait to give him a hug, she was apprehensive. Why did she feel this was all an illusion? Was it her mind again? How could Edgar be standing on the porch, talking to her through the screen door? She attended his funeral. She was there when he had the heart attack. She was with him, by his bedside, when he died in the hospital.
Edgar opened the screen door. “Just step out, sweetheart. Trust me. Everything will be alright.”
As Ethel stepped onto the wet porch, with little Pepper in her arms, the misty rain suddenly stopped. The sun came out and it was spring. Gail’s marigolds were alive again. Butterflies and hummingbirds flew all around the garden and the pond. The warmth of the sun dried the air.
“Let’s sit down, just like old times,” he said, leading her to the rocking chairs. “Now you’ll never have to leave home. We can sit on the porch for eternity.”
Ethel and Edgar sat there, rocking and talking, with so much to discuss, so much to catch up on, while Pepper nestled in Ethel’s lap, all warm and toasty.
Just like old times.
********
Later that afternoon, Paul drove down his mother’s street. He had not seen her in a few days. He wanted to install that window in the screen door, something he had been meaning to do for a while, before it turned colder. He was glad it had stopped raining, surprised the weather had turned so unseasonably mild, like a taste of early summer.
He also wanted to tell her the news: a bed was now open at Golden Horizons. It was time to move. He planned to clean out the old place, hoping to have it on the market by spring.
He parked in front of the house and noticed Ethel sitting on the porch with Pepper on her lap.
Paul walked up the front steps and onto the porch. Shame to wake her. Poor lady was sleeping so soundly. Pepper was sound asleep too. Ethel had such a beautiful smile on her face. He bent down to kiss her on the cheek and noticed how cold she was.
Ethel was watching nearby. Andy, Gail, and Edgar… they were all there with her. Even Pepper had gone along for the ride.
********
The following spring, Paul was cleaning his mother’s house, getting the old place ready for the sale. He took a few pieces of her antique furniture as a remembrance. The rest of the relics he would sell at auction.
It was mild for early April. The annuals were already coming up in the old garden. Paul opened all the windows to air the musty place out. He put the screens in the doors and immediately noticed a refreshing breeze blowing in through the screen door. Paul and Jason worked in the living room, gathering a box full of China and other dinnerware.
“Ok, let’s carry this junk out to the car before we get the other stuff,” ordered Paul. He picked up the box and started out.
Suddenly, Paul stood transfixed at the front door, looking out the screen door.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Jason asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have,” Paul gasped. “Your grandmother. She’s working in the garden with Aunt Gail.”
“Dad, Grandma died last year, remember?” Jason replied.
“I see her through the screen door,” insisted Paul. “Look out there… Don’t you see her?”
Jason put his box down and went to the door, looking out.
“Nobody out there. Not a soul.”
When Paul opened the screen door to look for himself, they were gone. He rubbed his eyes. In that instant, he remembered how his mother claimed to see dead relatives in the yard. He thought she was losing her mind.
Just to play it safe, Paul took the house off the market that afternoon. He wasn’t ready to move on just yet.
About the Author
Gregory Smith is a retired medical social worker. He is active on social media, including Facebook, X, Blue Sky and Instagram. Greg enjoys sports, classic movies, Beatles music and reading in his free time. He is married with two cute dogs, Katie and Cocoa.
