I picked up the dress that was inside my grandmother's closet. Poor her, still in hospital, after being betrayed by a trustworthy traitor. The dress I am holding unto was from back when she was a teenager. She used to love dresses, collecting as much as possible. This one, was a very special one. She received it from her twentieth birthday, from her mother who lived away from her. She wore it to my parents' wedding back in 2001, and also to her anniversary with her dead husband in 1989.
This dress is now remnant behind, after she began realizing her age, she started wearing more darker colors. The earrings that goes with her dress comes from her husband, Henry. Who gave that to her during their wedding. These means a lot to her, and if I could make her feel better about her betrayal, these would work. Her husband and her mother never leaves her side, no matter how she thinks of them as. Today was my turn to deliver the supplies to her bed, while my family gets some rest. I packed the red dress -I was not allowed to touch that when she was well- she always hated children's hands. So I slipped it inside my bag, including the red diamond earrings.
"Celia remember, she is paralyzed from her anesthetics, lots of her words might not be would she mean. So if she starts yelling at you, or calling you names, just remember the condition she is in," my mother handed me some chips. "Here, eat these, it would help you feel better," she said. My sister seems to be much more mature, after three days of self-retrospect. She sees me; the normal expression would be rolling her eyes or giving me a cold sneer. But this time she just smiled with sincere and genuine. I could not tell if it was true, or have one of my parents told her to be nice to me. "Good luck, Celia," she said, hugging me stiff for three second before stridently walking out of sight.
I arrived in the emergency pit, where all the patients happen to be unconscious, probably from the remedies they were forced to take. One woman was screaming when she saw me entering the room, she seems to be suffering a lot, although I could not tell from the outside. Right behind the bell, an much younger lady came in, she gave me a glare of hatred before starting to sit near the woman and speaking to her. I am to inference it might be a relative. There, my grandma was lying right next to her, I did not even notice.
She appeared to be different, her appearance was the same, although her age changed. All her hair is completely grey, with no sign of brown texture left. Her blue eyes turned grey and her skin was crushed together like tissues. "Celia, you came at last!" she tried to sound cheerful, although her voice was blinded by her pain. The first reaction was tears, I tried to tell myself she was ok, but why am I still sobbing? "I am so grateful to see you here. You are still unwell, but hope. God gave you strength to recuperate," I sobered, the thought made me stop. I held her hands with gratitude, and half her eyes were filled with water. She found it hard to cry, with such pain. "Celia, listen to me. I was naïve enough to believe her. She was nothing but a trap. She lured me in so she could take my money," she said.
I did not wait for any more words, I knew the longer I stand here like a bystander, the longer she would feel unconscientious. The best way to cheer her up was showing her the dress and the earrings. "I brought these with me, they were from home. I know I am not suppose tp touch them, but I just wanted you to see them," I handed her over the red dress and the diamond earrings. "What is that for?" she asked, her eyes went blank, after another noise flooded her voice. The old lady next to her seems to be excruciating this time. "This is a token from two of the people. They would never betray you, your husband and your mother," I spoke while ignoring her responses.
"I do not need these to make me feel better. My life is already over, it is gone," she spilled out, after two seconds of silence. "Never say that. Keep your optimism, trusting Jesus," that was what you always told me.