A/N:Some might recognize this story as it was originally post under on the account for New York Country, aka me, back in 2014, I was recently looking through my old stories and decided that this one definitely needed some polishing to really make a great story like I had intended it to be. So now that I've got a few more years of experience under my belt and the time and energy to do something about it, I'm going to be actively editing this story and will be posting as I finish with each chapter. Hope you enjoy the read.

~Miss. E. Thompson

Chapter One: Grandma

What do most people think about when they heard the word '15 year old girl'? I used to think being a teenager meant sleepovers, boys, spending lots of time with friends and going to parties, dreaming of the future and the independence it was sure to bring. I thought I would spend this summer counting down the days to birthday, to the day I would turn 16 and could finally get my driver's license. I was so ready for that, that I didn't even see this coming as a possibility.

This was not what I thought about when I pictured the final weeks of my freshman years. I didn't think I would have to pull out the black dress in my closet for anything other than a party and I didn't think that a rock could ever make me cry. But I was wrong, wrong and naive as I stared at the piece of story in front of me cutting my grandmother's life into four simple lines.

Helen A. Swan

October 15, 1945 – June 1, 2015

Beloved Wife,

Mother and Grandmother

She was a vibrant woman, always smiling and laughing. I could still see her, her face still so full of life and happiness. Yet somehow her whole story, all 69 years of it had been cut down into four simple lines on a hunk of rock and it didn't feel adequate. It felt like there needed to be so much more to this, more to say, more to do, but there wasn't. She was gone and there was nothing I could do as I stood in the huddle of black around the grave site. All the people that came out had gotten out their very best, all in varying shades of black with little black umbrellas to protect them from the steady rain fall as they all say their farewells. The only person not in black was my grandmother as she had laid there in her favorite blue dress.

It's been almost ten years since I've been to a funeral. The last I was five and there had been three caskets instead of one. Turning my head a little I could see the next four headstones in the row, all of which carried the same last name. Closest to grandma was my grandfather, Geoffrey C. Swan had died before I was born, but I felt like I knew the man from all the stories that I'd been told over the years. The next headstone was dual headstone with the names Christopher T. Swan and Deana L. Swan and the last belonged to a smaller stone with the name Aiden T. Swan. All three had died in a car accident when I was five years old.

Turning my head the other way to look at Uncle Charlie I see a lone tear falling down his face. I don't know how he does it, he'd had to live through more than I have and yet he still stood strong, never wavering. The lone tear was the only sign of how much sadness he was feeling and I think that was partly my fault. I haven't been able to stop crying since it happened, he probably felt like he couldn't cry because he had to be strong for me and that made me feel a little guilty.

Turning back to the now closed casket a new wave of pain and sadness ran through my chest. How do you say goodbye to the woman who's been your everything since you were five? She had been far more than a grandmother to me, she had been a mother, a teacher, a friend and confidant. I went to her for everything and now that she's gone it was like I was losing my parents all over again as well as losing my best friend. It felt like there was a literal hole in my heart and I had no idea what to do with it.

The pastor had stopped speaking and the people were slowly leaving, each laying a hand on my shoulder and giving a sad smile before continuing on. I couldn't look at them, instead I stared straight ahead at the trunk of a large oak tree that stood tall over this section of the cemetery, We stood there till everyone else had left. I was cold, the think sweater I was wearing not enough to shield against the cold rain that the wind blew onto my arms and legs.

"Anna? We've got to go you're soaked." Uncle Charlie said gently as he laid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close. I let him lead me out, though I didn't want to leave. It felt wrong to leave her alone given she'd done the very opposite for me the last ten years.

The ride back to Uncle Charlie's was quiet. We both knew there was nothing either of us could say that would take the pain away, so we didn't pretend. When we got to the house we both went our separate ways, Uncle Charlie to the kitchen to get a beer and I went upstairs to what was now my room. This room used to be Uncle Charlie's 'office' but had served as more of a guestroom.

I changed out of the drenched dress and sweater and into a pair of yoga pants and a comfy hoodie to warm up in. The room wasn't very big, but it also wasn't as small as my room at my grandmother's. I had always felt comfortable at Uncle Charlie's, his house had been like a second home for most of my childhood, but now that it was my only home, it felt different. The room was now mine, but it didn't feel like it was mine. I laid down on the bed and wrapping up in the green and blue quilt that I'd brought from grandma's. The beige walls were bare and the window didn't have any curtains, though that didn't matter at the moment as the sun was blocked by gray rain clouds. Staring at the ceiling I listened to the sound of the rain hitting off the roof till it lulled me to sleep.

I woke up a couple hours later to the loud roar of a truck outside. Wiping the sleep from my eyes I noticed they were completely dry for the first time all day, though the crustiness left in the corner of my eyes was slightly uncomfortable. Crawling out of bed I walked over to the window and pulled a hair tie off my wrist. Quickly throwing my hair up into a pony tail as I watched someone jump out of an ugly orange truck into the pouring rain. When they started to pull the wheel chair out of the bed of the truck I recognized it as Billy Black's. The ugly truck had once a staple of my childhood when I'd spent countless hours running around his yard with Jacob and the twins while our moms sat on the porch watching us.

My eyes drifted to the silver car that had been sitting in the driveway for the last two days, The little silver car had been my grandmother's and now would be mine when I turned 16. Just like this room it was something that hadn't been mine, but now suddenly was. I didn't know how to feel about that. Grandma had loved that car, loved it so much that she refused to get rid of it even though it had definitely seen better days. The car was loud, easily heard from over a mile away and the wheel wells were nothing but rust at this point, but it ran and she was firm that she wouldn't get rid of it till it couldn't be fixed. I had thought the car was sure to become a lawn ornament before it would become mine. Grandpa had bought it for her roughly a years before he passed and she used to say that she could still feel him in the car with her, that it reminded her of when they used to go for their Sunday drives after church and talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

When Uncle Charlie ran out to help Jacob get Billy in the house I left the window and headed down stairs. It's been a few years since I've seen Billy or Jacob. Sarah Black had been friends with mine since high school, she and Billy had actually introduced my parents to each other. I'd been great friends with Jake and his sister before the accident and Sarah and grandma had worked hard to make sure that didn't change. They had wanted me to keep some stability after what had happened and it had worked for a couple years till Sarah's accident. After that Billy's health declined and his diabetes stole the use of his legs and visits became farther and farther apart.

Jacob had changed a lot since I'd last seen him. He'd always been a chubby kid and I always remembered being taller than him, but now he was lanky and maybe an inch to two shorter than Uncle Charlie. He'd let his hair grow out like his dad's which now hung dripping wet and limp from the pouring rain outside. Billy and Jake looked toward the stairs as I came to the bottom step.

"Hi, Anna. How are you holding up?" Billy asked with a sympathetic smile. I tried to give Billy a smile as I hugged my arms to me and shrugged.

"I'll be alright." I said weakly. Billy nodded sadly as Jake stepped around him and grabbed me in a big bear hug.

"Jacob… I need to breathe!" I wheezed as my ribs began to protest the pressure he was applying. It was like he was trying to squeeze the sadness out of me. Jake dropped me back down onto my own two feet and I tried hard to give him a real smile.

"Thanks Jake." He gave me a smile and a nod.

"Glad you came by, means you can help us eat all the food that's been dropped off." Uncle Charlie said and pushed Billy into the kitchen with Jake and I trailing behind. Uncle Charlie parked Billy at the table and Jacob moved to get the plates out of the cabinet while I opened the fridge. In the last two days I have seen more food in this house than there had ever been before. Uncle Charlie wasn't a cook by any means, his fridge usually contained milk, eggs and Vitamin R, but now you couldn't fit another pan of food into the fridge of you wanted to. The neighbors and the wives of the officers down at the station had all brought a dish, the food filled both the fridge and the freezer.

Turns out the Blacks were very good distractions as they kept the conversation going and avoided any heavy topics. For a little while my thought weren't focused on all the things changing in my life or that I wouldn't be waking up to the smell of waffles and orange juice and the sound of the radio playing as my grandmother swayed and sang along to the music.

After dinner we moved into the living room, Uncle Charlie putting on Sports Center so he and Billy could argue with the commentators about their analysis and opinions on various sports and teams. I almost wished they wouldn't leave when Billy said it was time to head back to the rez and began to wheel himself toward the door.

"Hey Anna. How about you and Charlie come to the rez tomorrow? The old men can watch the Mariner's game and we can pretend to be ten again, play with my action figures on the floor? Can't believe it's been years since we've talked." Jake piped up as they were about to head out the door. I was already sold on the idea, anything to escape the depressing feeling that was hanging in the house. I looked at Uncle Charlie and he nodded with a small smile on his face before turning back to Jake.

"As long as the old men don't have to get their own beers; sounds good to me." He gave a shrug and took a drink from the beer in his hand. Jake gave a bright smile at that.

"Alright, then. See you guys tomorrow." Jake said brightly before ducking out into the rain. Uncle Charlie handed me his empty beer and followed them out into the rain to help Jake get Billy into the truck. For just a minute I felt like everything could be alright. That everything would even out, the bad and the good.