Knitted Hearts by Amber Kelly

Sonia

“Ican’t believe this happened. I was just there this morning, helping her move the display shelves in the consignment shop, and she was fine. Better than fine,” I tell them.

“We never know when something is going to come along and knock the wind from our sail,” Ria states.

“I wish time would slow down. Not because I have a problem with aging. I’m fine with getting older. I wish it would slow down because I’m not ready for the people in my life that I look to for covering to become sick or frail. I still feel like that little girl who needs her momma and aunts and uncles to run to when she’s sick, hurt, or scared. I still look to them for protection and provision and direction. I’m not ready for the generation before me to move on. I need time to slow down. I know that’s not the way it works. I just need it to be,” Sophie says precisely what I’m feeling.

I was young when my father died. I was devastated, and it hurt like crazy, but my momma is different. She and I are more than mother and daughter. She’s my friend. The person that I see or talk to every day, no matter what. She’s my person.

“Aunt Doe and Aunt Ria, you can never leave us,” Elle agrees.

Doreen smiles. “I’m afraid that’s not how it works, girl. Our time will come, and by the grace of God, it will be before any of you. But even once I’m gone, you’ll still have me. I’ve taught you everything I know about life. I poured it into you as we went along. That’s what you do with each generation. That’s what families do,” Doreen replies.

“I don’t think I absorbed any of it,” Elle tells her.

Doreen and Ria laugh and exchange a knowing look with Dottie, Beverly, and Madeline.

“Of course you did. What makes Aunt Ria’s garden grow so well?” she asks.

“Coffee grounds!” Sophie answers.

“Yep. And what is the secret to making my fried apple pies so delicious?”

“Vanilla bean seeds,” Elle replies.

“And why do my biscuits rise so high?” Doreen asks, and her eyes land on mine.

“Lard instead of oil,” I whisper.

“See, we’ve been planting seeds into all of you children. Where do you think we learned how to knit, cook, garden, raise children, mend fences, and love someone through a broken heart? Where do you think we got all that knowledge from?” Ria asks.

“Gram?” Sophie murmurs.

She nods.

“Exactly. Our momma sowed the same seeds in us to give us the tools so that we could pass them down to you guys, and you’ll pass them down to your little ones. Lily Claire will be baking biscuits one day, and she’ll grab the lard even if her recipe calls for vegetable oil, and she’ll never even know why she does it.”

“So, even when we are promoted to heaven, you’ll still have us. We’re right inside of you,” Doreen adds.

“I still don’t want you to go,” Sophie says.

“Well, I’m not planning on it anytime soon. I want to be around when Elle has babies. We might have instilled everything we had in her, but that Walker is a work in progress, and I have a feeling his genes are strong,” she says, and we all giggle.

The nurse comes in at hour two to let us know that things are going well and Momma is doing great.

We breathe a sigh of relief at the news.

“Here, dear, why don’t you try to get some shut-eye? We’ll wake you if another update comes,” Ria says as she covers me with a blanket.

“I don’t think I can sleep,” I tell her.

“It’s going to be a long wait. Let us take the night shift for you, so you can be refreshed when you see your mother in the morning. Just close your eyes and try,” Beverly adds.

I give in and cuddle under the blanket as I lay my head on Bellamy’s shoulder. It doesn’t take long for me to fall off to slumber.

A couple of hours later, I bolt awake. I blink away the sleep and stretch my arms above my head to release the crick in my neck.

I look over to see Bellamy and Elle asleep as well as Dallas and Sophie, but my mother’s oldest and dearest friends are keeping watch with Don.

“Anything new?” I whisper across the room, and Don shakes his head.

I stand and make my way to the mini fridge, where I grab a bottle of water and down it. Then, I take a seat beside Doreen, and she wraps an arm around my shoulders. When she closes her eyes, I can hear the slight murmur of an uttered prayer on her lips against my hair.

I’m not sure how long we sit here before Momma’s surgeon comes back in. It seems like an eternity. Everyone has awakened, and the television is on a morning talk show. Walker and Braxton brought breakfast sandwiches from the diner, and Elaine came with a basket of muffins.

When the door opens, Don and I are on our feet again.

“Mr. Chambers,” the doctor greets.

“How’s she doing, Doc?” Don asks.

“I’m sorry, sir. But your wife went into cardiac arrest as we were closing the chest cavity. We did all we could, but she was too weak.”

And just like that, the world around us comes crashing down.