My parents are both old, so naturally growing up my grandparents were either extremely old or dead. At times I regretted this. My mother's mother died the day before my first birthday, and when I was young and spiritual, this was immeasurably meaningful to me. I would look out the car window at the post-rain sky, the truly majestic sunbeams piercing the clouds, and I would think how beautiful it all was-- that my grandmother was dead and that she died connected to me and that she was consequently my guardian. Not to mention hers was the origin of my red hair.
That is the gist of Margaret, and I'll have to mention Emmet and Stafford, but this is the story of Ann.
Emmet, Ann's husband, was called next. I was six and my father picked me up one Tuesday afternoon, always an early dismissal day at school. Emmet was in the residual vacuousness that follows a stroke, and I had begun rehearsing my response to "your grandfather is dead." I was not sad. He was a nasty old man, and this being my first encounter with death, I felt thrilled and wanted to do it right. The wake was fun. I spent most of it in the reception room eating donuts and coffee-- I loved playing grownup--, and an uncle said to me, "would you like coffee in your sugar?" No, the answer was no.
I touched Emmet's hand for curiosity's sake, and then only because I was forced to I went and hugged Ann.
"You're a sweet girl," she said, and I wanted that hug to be over.
*This is a snippet of a longer piece.
Our parents are always old, or seem old because they are older than we are. I take it you mean that they were older than the norm when you were born; this is an instance where more specificity would help the reader--how old were they when they married? When you were born? Perhaps some information on why, if you know. This is preliminary to a meditation on your grandparents, and by extension, death. Though we're told this is Ann's story, we begin with Margaret (a nice description of your musing on her death and a pleasant subverting of our expectations--that you found it beautiful and comforting). Perhaps it is too soon for you to state what this is the story of--write a complete draft and see what you have. You may find that all four grandparents have a place in it. A good sentence: "I touched Emmet's hand for curiousity's sake." Not so good: "Not to mention hers was the origin of my red hair." You are mentioning it, in the passive voice, with some ambiguity in the possessive (her hair was the origin of your hair?). Technically, the origin is in the genes you share, but technically may not be the way to go in this piece. Perhaps simply "I inherited my red hair (and anything else?) from her. Often the straightforward subject-active verb-direct object construction is the most clear and effective. A good start. Keep going with this.
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