A Piece Of My Heart Is In Heaven
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I’m so proud of you, my dear. You have come a long way since that first day I met you at the bus stop. You never would’ve thought it possible when we were younger and you’d say such things like “Oh, no! It’s two weeks until Christmas!” or “What? The bathroom is out of toilet paper again?” or even worse—”Why didn’t they have any hot dogs today?!”
But your perseverance has paid off. You are going to make someone a wonderful husband someday soon-a very lucky man indeed. I hope he appreciates what an amazing woman you are because there aren’t many women who can do all you’ve done in life—and still smile afterward.
You must be very excited about this big event and I wish you nothing but the best as you walk down the aisle. And, if you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a daughter just like me! Love always, Mom
P.S. If I was able to give you a piece of advice before I left for heaven, it would be: Don’t take your marriage vows lightly. They will last forever; don’t let one little thing upset you. And remember that in the end, love will conquer all.
The following morning, the wedding ceremony took place in the beautiful church of St. Mark’s. All of the guests were seated on benches placed outside the large wooden doors. As the bride entered with her father and bridesmaids, everyone stood to cheer them on.
As she walked down the aisle with her father’s arm around her shoulder, everyone looked at her with admiration. She had a charming smile, a lovely white dress, and hair that shimmered in the sunlight. Even the children were enthralled by her beauty.
As she walked toward him, the groom tried to keep his eyes focused ahead. He glanced over every once in a while and could see himself reflected in her eyes. Her eyes held great promise.
“Are you ready?” asked the priest.
He nodded as he watched her walk down the aisle. His heart pounded as he saw her turn back and face him. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He reached out to take her hand and whispered, “You look stunning.”
She smiled at him shyly. Then, turning to the priest, she said, “I do.”
The wedding went smoothly. Afterward, the happy couple drove away in their fancy car. Everyone waved goodbye as they left the church and headed down the road.
Later that evening, after the honeymoon, the newlyweds settled into their new home together.
One night, as the newlywed couple lay in bed, the husband turned to his wife and asked, “Do you know how many people in this world don’t have any arms or legs?”
His wife replied, “Yes,” as she rolled over and fell asleep.
The next morning, the husband awoke and looked at his wife. He was alarmed to see that her head had fallen off onto the pillow.
“My goodness!” exclaimed the husband. “That’s terrible!”
He rushed downstairs and told his mother-in-law.
“No need to worry,” said the grandmother. “We’ve had that happen before. She’ll be fine.”
The next morning, the husband awoke to find his wife’s head rolling out of bed and across the floor. “Oh no!” cried the husband. “This is awful!”
He ran to his mother-in-law and cried, “What am I going to do?”
“Don’t be silly,” replied the old lady. “Your wife will be fine. We’ve had this happen before. She’ll be fine.”
The husband returned upstairs and found his wife’s head lying on the side table. “What happened?” he asked.
“It’s just a little accident,” said the grandmother. “Her head fell off last night.”
The husband went back to bed, but couldn’t sleep. At dawn, he got up and decided to go to the doctor to have a checkup. When the doctor examined him, he said, “Well, I’ve never seen anything like this before. That’s very strange. Would you mind coming back tomorrow? I’ll call the police station and ask them to send over a policeman.”
The husband agreed. The next day, the husband came back with the cop. The doctor examined him and then called the grandmother.
“Now, tell me, grandma,” said the doctor. “What sort of trouble have you been having?”
The grandmother replied, “Well, it seems that my grandson here lost his wife’s head last night.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said the doctor. “Did she wake up?”
“No, she didn’t. But her head’s not in the refrigerator.”
***
A young lady who was about to get married, took her future mother-in-law aside to ask for some advice. “Just how should I treat my husband’s mother?” she inquired.
“Never speak ill of her.”
“I understand,” answered the girl. “But what if I want to say something bad about her?”
“Then don’t.”
One day, a woman was visiting her son’s home when she heard someone whistling happily. It was her son, who had recently moved in with his girlfriend.
“Is that your boyfriend?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
“What’s his name?”
“Jesse.”
“Does he have a job?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s an accountant.”
“How much does he make?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care.”
“Why not? What kind of man has a beautiful girlfriend but doesn’t know how much she makes?”
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because he cheated on me.”
“Cheated! How did he cheat on you?”
“By leaving me.”
When her daughter-in-law died, the elderly mother-in-law was faced with the daunting task of disposing of a lifetime of possessions, from porcelain dolls to miniature tea sets.
After four days of searching through closets, attics, basements, and storage rooms, she’d finally found every last item. But she still had one more search left to do: her daughter-in-law’s bedroom.
The mother-in-law opened the door to her daughter-in-law’s room and stepped inside. As she stood looking around, the door suddenly slammed shut behind her. Startled, the mother-in-law reached out to open the door. Before her hand could touch the doorknob, the door began shaking violently, rattling against the walls.
When she tried to push the door open, she found that it wouldn’t budge. In fact, the violent shaking became so intense that she feared the whole house might collapse. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
Suddenly, the door flew open and the mother-in-law tumbled backward into the living room.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” asked a neighbor who lived down the street.
“Yes, thank you,” said the mother-in-law. “I was just going through my dead daughter-in-law’s things. I must have pushed the wrong button on the remote control.”
A woman goes to see her doctor because she isn’t feeling well. “Doctor, I feel awful,” she says. “It hurts to move my head or even blink. Is there something wrong with me?”
“I think we should run some tests.”
“Test? Why?”
“Well, you have a fever.”
“Oh, no! Has anyone else gotten sick?”
“You’re the only one.”
“And you think it’s the flu?”
“That’s the only thing I can figure.”
“I’ve never had the flu!”
The doctor turns to her nurse. “Nurse, get a blood sample from this woman.” The nurse comes back shortly and tells the doctor that the test shows that she has Ebola. “Ebola?” the patient gasps. “But I haven’t been anywhere near Africa.”
“Exactly,” says the doctor. “That’s why I had to check.”
The old man shuffled slowly, painfully up the courthouse steps, leaning on a cane and supported by two younger men who walked alongside him.
He sat in the very back row of the courtroom, away from everyone else, and watched as the judge looked at his case file and then turned to face the jury.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, our client is charged with the murder of his wife,” said the prosecutor. “This was a senseless crime committed in a fit of rage. You have heard from witnesses that the defendant attacked his wife with a knife and cut off her head. And now, you will hear a witness testify that he saw the defendant carry his wife’s head outside and put it in a garbage bag.”
The judge was visibly angry when he asked the prisoner, “Are you guilty of first-degree murder?”
“No, Your Honor,” replied the old man. “I didn’t kill anybody.”
“Did you actually go to the landfill and throw your wife’s body into the trash?”
“No, sir. I’m not crazy!”
“In that case,” said the judge, “you can leave.”
As the old man hobbled out of the courtroom, the judge called after him, “Where did you really dump that body?”
“Nowhere, Your Honor,” answered the old man. “I was just fooling with them.”
***
I told you once before that I would never lie to you again.
— MOM
“What’s he talking about?” asked Grandma.
“Don’t ask me,” said Mom. “I’m a stranger to him, too.”
“Who is he, anyway?” asked Grandpa.
Mom shrugged. “Some guy who wandered in here.”
Grandma crossed her arms over her chest. “Just what I need. Another problem to worry about. I swear I don’t know how you women stand it. One of these days, I’ll be glad to die.”
“Wait till I tell you about the time they found the body of a young girl in the woods behind the old mill,” said Dad.
“I already heard about that. What happened?”
“She was murdered. There were marks on her neck like someone had strangled her.”
“I hope you’re not suggesting that I killed her,” said Grandma.
Dad put his arm around Grandma’s shoulders. “Of course not, hon. She was one of those runaway girls who hang out in the city. They say she was doing drugs and running with a bad crowd.”
“So what happened to her?” asked Grandma.
“They found her body at the bottom of an old well just north of town. It had been there for years.”
Grandma shook her head sadly. “Poor little thing. If she’d only come home when her parents came looking for her.”
“Don’t let it bother you, hon,” said Dad. “There are plenty of other young girls out there who need to be saved.”
“You know the story of the ugly duckling, Grandpa?” asked Mom. “It’s a fairy tale that children like.”
“I thought you read it to me when I was a boy,” said Grandpa. “How could I forget it?”
“Do you remember how the ugly duckling grew up to be a beautiful swan?”
“Yes, I do,” said Grandpa. “Only that wasn’t the end of the story. Do you want to hear more?”
“Why not? It might take my mind off of the real world.”
“Very well. So the ugly duckling grew up to be a beautiful swan and lived happily ever after.”
“Wrong. He got lost and fell down a hole in the ground. An ogre stomped him flat and ate him up.”
“Oh, dear,” said Mom.
“Is something wrong?” asked Grandma. “We’re all friends here. We can talk about anything.”
“The ugly duckling was dead?” asked Grandpa. “And no one even bothered to bury him properly?”
“When we were kids, we used to make fun of people like that,” said Mom. “People who got buried without any kind of ceremony. But I guess things are different now.”
“Different how?” asked Grandpa.
“Well, if the person doesn’t have family or friends who care enough to bury them properly, the local coroner takes charge of the corpse and buries it somewhere. That’s what happens, anyway, at least here in the city.”
“So what happened to the ugly duckling?” asked Grandma.
“He was eaten by the ogre.”
“That’s not very nice, Mom.”
“Well, it was a fairy tale,” said Mom.
“But the ogre wasn’t really an ogre, was he?” asked Grandpa.
“No,” said Mom. “He was a kindly old man who knew nothing about death and burial laws.”
“So why didn’t he just kill the ugly duckling right away instead of letting him live?”
“Because he was lonely, I suppose.”
“Couldn’t he find someone else to eat besides the poor little guy?”
“Maybe he couldn’t find anyone else, or maybe he wanted to keep the kid around until he was as fat as a pig. Anyway, it turned out that the ogre was a prince and the ugly duckling was his long-lost son.”
“Really?” said Grandpa, sounding interested.
“Sure. The ogre kept him locked inside his castle. His father loved him so much that he didn’t want to see him go back into the world. So the king ordered the ogre to keep his son prisoner forever.”
“What did the ugly duckling do while he was a prisoner?” asked Grandma.
“Oh, he went to school and learned to speak English. He even found an old photograph of his mother and gave it to the ogre to show him who he looked like. And then one day the ogre got sick and died.
The king told the ogre’s son to throw a big feast in his honor and invite everyone in the kingdom. When they got there, the king’s son announced that the ogre had finally gotten what he deserved. ‘He never should’ve let the ugly duckling live.’ Then he handed the keys to the castle over to his new son, the handsome prince.”
“Then what happened?” asked Grandma.
“Well, the prince married the beautiful princess, and they lived happily ever after.”
“Where does the story end?” asked Grandpa.
“The old farmer who owned the field where the ogre had lived before he got killed decided to build a house on top of the old well. That way, whenever someone fell down the well, it would be easy to rescue them.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Grandma.
“But of course, there was a catch,” said Mom. “Anyone who fell in would have to stay there forever. And that’s what happened to the ugly duckling. He spent the rest of his life in that well. After a while, he figured out how to get himself out again. Finally, though, he got tired of being alone, and he climbed back in to die.”
“This is such a sad story,” said Grandpa.
“Of course it is,” said Mom. “Now, let’s change the subject.”
“Did you ever feel like that, Grandma?” asked Grandpa. “Like you’d rather be dead than alive?”
Grandma hesitated for a moment. “It’s hard to say.”
“How about you, Grandpa?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, looking down at the table. “I don’t know what I would do if I were in your shoes.”
“You’d be able to see her again, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Do you think she’d be happy to see you?”
“I hope so.”
“She’s probably not going to like me very much, though.”
“No, but I bet she’ll still love you.”
“I wish I could ask my mom about this,” said Grandma.
“Me too,” said Grandpa. “But it’s been almost twenty years.”
“Twenty years!” said Grandma. “My goodness! My God, I can hardly believe it. It seems like only yesterday that she died.”
“I know.”
“Time goes so fast these days.”
Grandpa nodded. “All the time, we’re reminded of how precious life is. We’re all so busy trying to make ends meet that we forget to appreciate things. No wonder we all end up wanting to die.”
“You sound like my husband,” said Grandma. “He always says that once he dies, he’ll go straight to hell.”
“Why?”
“I guess because he thinks he deserves to be punished.”
“I’m sure you don’t deserve any punishment,” said Grandpa.
“Oh, I beg to differ. You might not have done anything wrong, but you did raise a murderer. What kind of person do you think you raised? Do you really want to know?”
“Not particularly,” said Grandpa. “I can only hope that you can forgive yourself.”
“I haven’t forgiven myself yet,” said Grandma. “But someday, I will.”
***
A few weeks later, Grandpa came home from work and sat down on the couch beside Grandma. “It’s so strange,” he said. “I heard something today that made me think of your mother. It was just a little thing, but I thought it might mean something to you.”
“What was it?” asked Grandma.
“Your mother used to like to take walks along the beach by herself. She’d pack a picnic basket with sandwiches and lemonade and then walk until she couldn’t go any farther.”
“Sounds nice,” said Grandma.
“Yeah, it was. But anyway, I was walking through town and saw a woman carrying a large bag on her shoulder. Then, all of a sudden, she dropped it and started running. I followed her for a while, and when I finally caught up to her, she was standing right over a deep hole in the ground.
I remember thinking about how bad it must be to fall into one of those holes. They’re awful. So I ran around to the other side and climbed inside. The bag was full of sandwiches, so I ate them. Then I jumped back out. There was a pretty little girl sitting at the bottom of the hole.
She looked up at me and smiled, so I took off after the woman who had dropped the bag. She was getting farther and farther away, so I ran as fast as I could. When I finally reached the end of the road, I saw your mother standing on the sidewalk. She turned and waved to me.
I felt like I should say something. I wanted to run over and tell her how beautiful she was. But instead, I just stood there, frozen to the spot.
“Then, all of a sudden, your mother started running toward me again, and she fell right into the same hole.”
Grandma stopped breathing for a moment. “That doesn’t sound like something my mother would do,” she said. “She never went anywhere alone. And she didn’t eat any sandwiches.”
“Well, I didn’t say that she ate the sandwiches,” said Grandpa. “I just said that she packed a picnic basket for it.”
“Oh, well, that makes more sense.”
“Right.”
“What happened next?”
“Nothing,” said Grandpa. “I never found out. All I knew was that I was standing at the top of the street and watching her get swallowed up by the sand. After that, I came home and told your grandmother that I’d seen someone who looked exactly like our dead daughter. That was the last time I ever saw her.”
Grandma shook her head. “I can’t believe that I didn’t come with you that day. If I had been there, she might not have fallen in the hole.”
“Maybe,” said Grandpa. “Or maybe not. Either way, I’m glad you weren’t there. Your mother might have lost her mind if you’d seen her fall in that hole. It wasn’t long before she started talking to us about death and suicide, and then she ended up killing herself anyway.”
“I still feel guilty about what happened to her,” said Grandma. “I don’t know why I never tried to talk to her about it. I guess I was afraid that she wouldn’t listen to me. Or that she would start crying.”
“Who knows?” said Grandpa. “Either way, it’s too late now. The past is gone. It has no power over us anymore. Now, I’m going to bed. If you need me, I’ll be in the attic. Good night.”
Grandma nodded. “Good night, dear.”
The next morning, Grandpa didn’t go to work or even leave his house. Instead, he spent the entire day reading books and listening to records. He refused to eat anything except for a single piece of bread and some water. By the time evening arrived, Grandpa was sweating and pale-faced, and he was shaking all over. When Grandma got home from work, she called out to him. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Terrible,” said Grandpa. “Just terrible.”
“Why don’t we talk about it?”
“No, I don’t want to talk about it!” shouted Grandpa. “I can’t stand it! I can’t stand the sight of this house anymore. We’ve lived here for years, but I never truly saw it before today. It’s dark and ugly and full of memories.
I’m leaving tonight. I’m taking a train to New York City. I won’t return until I find a place where I belong. This is the last time I’ll ever see you again. Don’t wait up for me.”
Grandma sat down on the sofa beside him. “Listen to me, Grandpa,” she said quietly. “You can stay here with me. You don’t have to go anywhere else. I’d love to have you around. We could move to a nicer neighborhood, and you’d never have to worry about living in such a dreary house ever again.”
Grandpa shook his head. “No, that’s not possible,” he said. “I have a lot of plans for myself. I really think that they will lead me to happiness. So please, forget about me. Forget that I existed, because I don’t think that I ever did. Goodbye.”
And then Grandpa walked away into the darkness. Grandma watched him go with a heavy heart. She couldn’t imagine what might have happened to him if she hadn’t been there when he needed her. What would happen to him if he were to disappear forever? Would he become one of those people who live their lives without ever being noticed, like the man in the attic?
In the end, Grandpa left a letter for Grandma. The last thing he wrote was, “Don’t look for me. Please, I beg you.”
When Grandma received the letter, she tore it up immediately. Then she burned it.
***
“It was probably the best thing for him,” said Grandpa. “He deserved to be happy after all these years. He was always so miserable. But he made sure to leave me a note first. He promised that someday he would write back to me, just as soon as he figured out how to do it.”
“Did you ever hear from him?” asked Grandma.
“Yes,” said Grandpa. “After about six months, I got a letter from him. I opened it, and it was written all upside down. I took my glasses off and read it again. It seemed to make perfect sense that way. When I was done, I felt very sad. I folded the letter carefully, placed it inside an envelope, and mailed it to myself. I wanted to save it for the rest of my life, but I never did.”
“What happened to the letter?” asked Grandma.
Grandpa smiled at her. “That’s a good question. I suppose that the mailman must have thrown it away. Who knows? Maybe he found it interesting enough to keep. In any case, I haven’t heard from him since. Not even once.”
“Maybe you should give it another try,” said Grandma. “This time, you can write your own letter.”
Grandpa shrugged. “Why bother? What could I say to him that he hasn’t already told me? I guess I’ll just have to be content with that.”
“I’m glad you’re back,” said Grandma.
Grandpa gave her a smile. “Thank you,” he said.
Then the two of them went upstairs together. They brought down the things they had packed up in the attic and carried everything downstairs. While Grandpa was busy dusting and sweeping, Grandma put on her coat and shoes and headed out into the cold evening air.
She walked briskly across the bridge towards a small park by the river, where she paused to look at the moonlit water. A cool breeze blew over her face, and she shivered. She looked up at the sky, which was dotted with stars. There was nothing more beautiful than that night sky.
How long has it been since I last gazed at the heavens? she thought. How much longer will I have to spend inside this house alone, watching television or reading books? I never realized just how wonderful this world is. All of those stars look so close; I could reach out and touch them. If only I had someone special to share them with…
The next morning, Grandpa woke up early. He was still tired, but he knew that he wouldn’t feel better until he got some exercise. He walked briskly through the quiet streets, admiring the scenery. During his walk, he came upon a little café.
It was called the Bluebird Café, and it was one of the very few restaurants in town. He entered, ordered a cup of coffee, and sat down at a table. He wasn’t hungry, but he decided to order something anyway. When the waitress arrived, he asked her if she had seen a pretty woman wearing a red hat pass by the café lately.
“You mean the waitress?” she asked. “I saw her leaving here with a man yesterday. I believe they went to the bank and then left town.”
“A man?” exclaimed Grandpa. “Didn’t you tell me that she was a girl? Where did you see them going? Did you know that she liked me?”
“Are you sure you didn’t confuse them with somebody else? Sometimes when you’re old, you get confused sometimes,” she said. “But no, I don’t remember seeing anybody like that.”
“Thanks,” said Grandpa. “I hope that’s true. I love that waitress. She looks so happy every time I come in here.”
“I’m sure you do,” said the waitress. “And now that you mention it, you are always smiling when you come in here. You seem really happy. Just like you were when you first moved here.”
“Oh, I am happy,” said Grandpa. “Or maybe I’m just used to being here. It doesn’t take much to please me anymore. I suppose I’ve become very lazy in my old age. I never did before.”
“Do you want to go home yet?” asked the waitress.
“No, I’m not ready for that yet,” answered Grandpa. “I was talking to my grandson the other day, and I learned that there was a young lady working at the library who was interested in finding a husband. I asked him what I could do to help her. He told me that I should stay right where I am and wait for her to find me.”
“Is that so?” asked the waitress. “Well, I suppose you could do that. But if you ask me, you’re wasting your time. I think she’d be happier somewhere else. And she probably thinks so too. Why don’t you try finding somebody else?
Maybe you can find someone who’s more exciting. Like I said, you do seem to smile whenever you come in here. I’m sure you must be a very pleasant person. I bet you have a lot of friends!”
The End