The Way Things Are part 2

Flashback 2005
She fluffed her hair in the mirror, running that needle looking brush against her snowy head. She twinged a little. It looked like it hurt, but that could be the stiffening spray.
“Do I need to find you a shirt, Kay?”
“You don’t like this one?”
“It’s a T-shirt… you can’t wear that to church…”
She came over and pinched my cheek.
“Owwww…”
Her grey eyes sparkled a little, and she smiled crookedly, her lips thinning like a coil over her wrinkled face.
“I bought you a yellow dress shirt… But your gonna have to borrow your granfather’s dress pants… “
I looked at her with an annoyed grin.
“It’s only for an hour… and afterwards, I’ll cook… your grandfather already picked some squash and peas from the garden, so this one’s on the  house… ok?”
She ran her finger’s through my hair.
“Fine.”
“Gerald! Gerald! Are you almost ready!”
He didn’t answer.
“Hrrrghghghh! That man, deaf… I swear!”
I laughed a little, and she continued to nip and tuck the painful experiment that was her hair.
We all piled into the Lincoln (which she always said I could have if she died, but I would never drive it. It’s an old person’s car! Come on!)

She looked at my grandfather, and rolled her eyes.
“And I’m the woman…” she snickered.

2008
She sat in the same chair she always did. That ugly, red recliner. Her legs, swollen and riddled with mazes of bright veins, were plopped up. Her hair laid flat on her head, like grass trampled to death by a marching band. I got close to her, and gently traced her numb hand. She looked at me with her grey eyes. They were droopy, filmed over. They reminded me of rain clouds. She looked at me and spoke, or at least she tried to. I couldn’t her. But then she pointed at my hat. She sighed for effect.
“Oh… sorry.”
I took it off, and set it on the ground.
“I gotta go, grammy, ok.”
I hugged her, and went into the kitchen to say goodbye to granddad.
“You doin well?”, he asked.
“Fine. Bored out of my mind, but fine.”
He laughed.
“You?”
And for manners sake, he said, “Fine.”
But his eyes, electric blue, were moist. He looked into the living room, and I could see grammy staring at him absently.
“Heyyy!” I heard her call. That was the best she could manage today, it seemed.
I walked into the living room.
“I didn’t forget my hat, grammy.”
She looked at me and opened up her left arm.
She hugged me, and gave me a kiss.
She looked distraught, like every word was as heavy to say as 100 pound weight.
“I love you.”
She grabbed my hand with her left.
For a moment she looked at me, with what seemed a backwards smile, but not a frown exactly. I tried to pull away, but she held on for a few minutes longer, just looking at me. It was like she was talking, giving some serious, heart-wrenching speech about how much I was to her.
I never saw her alive again.