Love Letters From the Grave(66)
Before leaving, Jemima took the personal items she’d brought with her to the apartment and carried out a quick survey of its layout and contents. She had been in the apartment several times before, to dust and vacuum, but had not remembered how it was laid out.
Now she could see that it had three bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen/dining room combination, and a living room. Each bedroom had a large closet, a queen-sized bed, and a dresser, and the kitchen was furnished with a refrigerator, range and dishwasher, and the apartment was heated and cooled by a combination furnace and air conditioner, contained in a utility room, along with the hot-water tank. It was altogether a substantially larger and better arranged than the house they had been living in. She made a decision to give the largest bedroom to the girls, while the smallest would go to Martin, and the medium-sized one would be occupied by her and Prentice.
Two days later they made their move, with June’s son Norm and his oldest son providing one of their trucks as well as their labor. The move took less than half a day to complete. The children had already been enrolled in their new school, and the owner of their rental home notified. They were so desperate to get the children away from their hellish environment that they paid the rent up to the end of the 30-day notice without hesitation, even though they would not be living in it.
As they settled in, the extended family lived very harmoniously and happily together, to the great benefit of each one of them, including Molly and her family who knew she was well looked after.
From the first day of living on the farm, until their dying day, all five members of the family would thank their lucky stars. Jemima and Prentice were happy beyond words. The children had never looked back, responding to their new environment and opportunities with such gratitude, joy and enthusiasm that they propelled themselves through the educational system with high academic achievement and honors. From the beginning, they loved their school and their teachers, and responded to living on the farm like baby ducks taking to water.
Jemima turned out to be even a better housekeeper and cook than Molly had imagined, while Prentice proved to be an exceptionally responsible and skilled handyman about the farm.
Moreover, Jemima volunteered to cook, do the laundry, and clean their rooms for the homeless veterans. Prentice had already joined the American Legion Post, so he volunteered to supervise the veterans living on the farm. He would see that they not only were provided with room and board, but also with therapeutic work, helping to care for the farm’s animals, garden and orchard. A program bonus was that June’s family hired many of the veterans for part-time and even full-time employment in their expanding share-cropping, organic-produce business. Eventually, there were as many as a dozen homeless veterans living on the farm at any one time, keeping Jemima and Prentice very busy. Molly’s care and generosity of the homeless veterans’ program continued even after her death, when she left much of the residue of her estate - a substantial amount - to the American Legion Post, specifically dedicated to the program,
And that wasn’t all she’d bequeathed to others. In Molly’s will, she’d provided for college educations for each of her new ‘great-grandchildren’ – Jemima and Prentice’s grandchildren. Not only that, but to the great surprise of Jemima and Prentice, she had extended the lease on their apartment until the end of their lives. It was the least she could do for such dear friends, she’d told her attorney …
It was Jemima who’d found Molly, at the end. Apparently, Molly had suffered from heart fibrillation episodes and high blood pressure. At the age of 95, she had the most serious episode of all and needed to be hospitalized, but they managed to stabilize her and sent her home. Over the next few days, she remained in a relatively stable condition.
It was late October, and the area was experiencing one of the nicest Indian Summers in memory. Molly decided to visit Charlie at the grave. She had lunch in town with Jemima and family, and some other friends, then went home to take a nap before dinner.
She arose after an hour and put on Charlie’s favorite dress: a white silk sheath with padded shoulders, beautifully printed with red roses and vivid green leaves. Everyone commented on how nice she looked, and she made a point of hugging everyone, especially her ‘new’ great grandchildren, Ruby, Becky and Martin. They all enjoyed a fabulous meal, and then Molly excused herself at twilight to take a stroll through the garden before retiring. She placed her gold, tasselled shawl over her shoulders and strolled along the path, steadied by her cane, singing the third stanza of her favorite song, the one she had sung ever since he’d died, as she wandered into the garden, toward the golden light she saw shining in the distance ...
When Molly did not come back into the house at dark, Jemima and Prentice went out to look for her. They couldn’t see her from the porch, but noticed the moonbeam shining down on the garden. They walked toward it, flashlights at the ready, and there they found the prostrate Molly, lying on her back in a relaxed state, as if she had lain down to sleep for the night.
After they’d confirmed that she’d passed, and the emergency squad had arrived, the crew and the assembled guests all commented that they were amazed by what they saw as they looked down at Molly. An angelic aura of light radiated from her smiling face, as they gently lifted her away, as if she was greeting someone. Someone she loved very much indeed.
The church was beginning to grow quiet as I heard the end of Jemima’s tale. I squeezed her hand in recognition – although quite what I was acknowledging, I didn’t know – and turned to face the front, but not before I had caught the eye of Martin, the fifteen-year-old.