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A Story by Little Abbey

About a man who is passing on, but sees his granddaughter one last time.



         Though the recent news of my immanent death was weighing heavily on my mind, I went about my day as normally as I could despite being confined to my hospital bed with IVs dripping some medicated fluid into my arms. My wife looked at me with her sad and distressed eyes; I felt so bad, like somehow this was all my fault. I suppose it was… For years there were countless fights between us regarding my awful addiction to smoking and drinking.  We’d spend hours after the kids had gone to bed hissing at each other in harsh tones, calling each other things we probably should have apologized for the next day. Looking at her now, her face was forever marked with wrinkles from stress, age, and me. Her eyes were tired, and her mouth struggled to smile. Every beat my heart struggled to make was tinged with guilt. If I had made better choices, perhaps I would be outside of this medicated hellhole. 

            I glanced out of the window I had in my hospital room that looked out over the entrance; I could see my youngest son pacing back and forth outside of the doors, waiting for his four year old daughter to finished picking flowers out of the hospital’s flower beds. I smiled to myself. She was the sweetest little angel that ever was.

            “What are you smiling at? Are they here?” My wife softly sang from across the small room.

            “Yes, and it looks like Grace has found me some flowers.”

            “Picking flowers again, is she?” My wife laughed as she stood up from her chair and came over to stand by me. Her eyes lit up when she saw that the smile was still on my face, and she gently stroked my cheek.

            “It’s so wonderful to see you smiling.” She whispered in my ear.

            The moments like these are the ones when I realize my wife has truly forgiven me for the awful husband and father I was many years ago. And maybe the fact that my son was on his way to my hospital room all the way from Oregon, holding the small hand of my sweet little granddaughter was a sign that he had forgiven me as well.  It was not until now that I could feel my time running out, but I knew I’d be blessed with one more afternoon the second Grace ran into the room, her curly brown hair was bouncing with each step she took.  Her rosy cheeks were pulled up into a beautiful smile as she flew into my lap; wilted daisies clasped tightly in hand.

            “Hi grandpa!!!” She giggled, and she wormed her way up to my face and kissed my cheek. I was going to miss her.

© 2012 Little Abbey

Author's Note

Little Abbey

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Very very sweet and sad story. I could imagine all of it running through my head. I liked how you gave little hints of the past and places where we can foreshadow what was going to happen in the future. I really liked the detail and imagery you tied into this, it wasn't too much or too little. I couldn't find anything wrong with it, so it's a really good write. I loved reading this short story. :)

Posted 8 Years Ago

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Added on April 16, 2012
Last Updated on April 16, 2012


Little Abbey
Little Abbey

Portland, OR

I have been writing ever since I can remember. All my writing comes from the heart, and is usually about the one(s) I love. :3 I currently reside in Portland, OR. My favorite place on earth. I gre.. more..