Cherish: Behold, I Knock

Andy and Abbey arrived at the depot in Decatur a little late, and they saw Grannie before she saw them. Of course, she had on a hat, and amid a pile of variously shaped suitcases and bags, she was intently crafting something in her lap from rose-colored thread. Grannie looked tiny and frail sitting there—every bit of her eighty-four years. Andy had trouble accepting how she had aged. He still thought of her as vibrant and feisty—Southern-backwoods-spry—as she’d been in his youth. He wanted to see her as he remembered her: arms akimbo—the Kentucky spitfire who had tamed the wildest parts of his upbringing. Now, instead, Andy worried that she had traveled alone.

But she had made it!

Grannie looked up before they called her name. It took her a second to process that they were here. When the realization came, she tossed her crochet onto the seat and stood to gather their hugs. Her lips had been freshly rouged, as always, and she lavished her love marks on their cheeks.

“I made it!” she cried. “I just couldn’t wait any longer. Mac and Rachel were always too busy to bring me, and I started thinking why do I have to wait for them? Years ago, I used to go everywhere by train, and I figured a train still had to come to Decatur. I was right!”

Her eyes danced with triumph.

When Andy hugged Grannie again, she dropped a cane he’d never seen her use before. His heart hurt to see her supporting herself and moving slowly. When had this happened? When had Grannie grown old?

“Did they give you lunch on the train?” Abbey asked.

“Absolutely not!” she said. “I brought my own. No need to spend all that money for a bought lunch.”

No, indeed, thought Andy. Grannie would have been indignant to have wasted six dollars for a chicken salad sandwich and a cup of coffee.

“And,” she announced, “I had enough to share with two other people.”

Andy salivated. He tried to imagine what she must have had in her lunch basket. Surely there had been some of her incomparable fried chicken, all-day beans, sweet cornbread, and perfect apple pie—all the things he remembered from childhood.

He and Abbey gathered up Grannie’s luggage and started to make their way to the door.

Andy was weighed down. How had this little woman been able to manage all of this luggage, he wondered? But he already knew the answer. Grannie had no doubt charmed half of the people on the train, including the porters, probably tipping them with a piece of apple pie instead of bills—and they had loved it.

In the car on their way to Cherish, laughter made the seats bounce. Grannie regaled them with stories of the big dance at her high-rise a few weeks ago. She described in detail the formal gown she had sewn for herself (Andy could just picture her in it), and she clucked at the fact that the women in her building wouldn’t let their husbands dance with her or the other senior women. Andy and Abbey imagined that men were in short supply there, and they pictured Grannie dancing with other aging widows to spirited polkas and the wheezing of accordions.

By the end of their drive Cherish, their sides ached. Grannie’s mind was as sharp as ever, and her exploits smacked of the joy of life.

Once at home, Grannie’s presence diverted all attentions to her. Even Winston fell under her spell. His welcoming snorts abandoned Andy and Abbey, and he gravitated immediately to Grannie. Throughout her visit, Winston never left her side. The adoring dog even stationed himself at her place at the dinner table to beg. (No one ever fed him from the table, but Winston was always hopeful.)

“What time is church tomorrow?” Grannie demanded over dessert.

“Andy will go early, and then you and I will ride with the Darrells, at nine,” Abbey told her.

“Molly and Paul will come over to attend our service, too,” added Andy. “And we’ll all have lunch, here.”

The plans satisfied her, and Grannie stood to help clear dishes from the table.

To Andy, she instructed, "You go and polish up that message. I’m expecting to hear a barn-burner!”

Andy promised, “Yes, ma’am! I’ll be giving everyone Heaven!”