"You Smell Pretty"

 "You smell pretty", those were the last 3 words my Grandmother spoke to me. And the fucked up

 "thing" was, I COULDN'T understand these three simple heartfelt words. My Grandmother, near

death... and I had NO clue--- so that was all I heard, a "garbled" last sound, and then... there was NO

sound.

Thinking back I was NEVER told my caretaker was dying in front of my eyes. The doctors visits,

oxygen tanks and constant slumber, NEVER seemed to dampen my Grandmother's Spirit, she was

still like my mother, taking care of me, so now I SEE. Doing ALL the "little" things mothers are

supposed to do.

If I had known, could I have gotten my Grandma to give UP her cancer sticks? That nicotine delivery

system and toxic fumes, that caused the metastasized tumor to CONSUME, the LAST bit of

oxygen from those "sacs of air". No I "think" NOT, for W/O a doubt she was a STUBBORN "old

soul" who was set in her ways, but hey AREN'T we all to some Nth degree?

I always wondered why those souls who took care of me, DIDN'T tell me , how sick this lady be?

Were they just "NUMB" to the stark realities that death brings? Oh were they maybe... But wait,

STOP, for me ALL those "reasons" DON'T matter.

ALL of my thoughts and feelings have been "scattered".... I let the floodgates in, now I know

"grieving" ISN'T a " sin". For me- to be- a real -h-u-m-a-n- b-e-i-n-g, I know I have to heal from

deaths ills, that are still, sometimes sight "unseen".

In the aftermath of my Grandmother's "crash, there was a void left in me. I had NO ONE to turn to,

except... for me. And being an 8 year old boy, I now "SEE" this support sytem WASN'T adequete for

me.

I feel good bringing these thoughts and feelings to light. They are NOW conscious, and I can see,

what happened to me. When I WASN'T yet quite grown, but yet, not quite a b-a-b-y. To put this

event in order I can NOW leave behind, the disorder and chaos, that NO longer serves MY behind. I

know I did the best I could with what I had and... I ... am.. NO longer sad.

Thanks for loving and taking care of me, from your loving Grandson BMD


Brett Drummond

Pretty and poisoned, but I got the "cure"