The Last Square
Diana Chen
Grade: 8th
People say life is like a book. We add chapters as we create more memories and the memories then turn into history - history that we remember, share, laugh about, enjoy, and even cry over. The thickness of any one person’s book depends on the life they have lived. Some are thick and full of adventure. Some might be thin. Regardless of the length, each book is as unique and special as the life it represents. But it’s the ending that determines the value; the lessons, the morals, and the principles by which a person lived and connected their affairs.
Alzheimer’s is a disease that erases memories. It slithers into the book of life almost unnoticeably. At first it chips away at words, merely shortening them. Then come sentences. Next, paragraphs, then pages, and finally entire chapters. Gradually, the book becomes blank, empty pages- nothingness.
The disease becomes more and more frightening when it strikes closer to home. Not only is it your loved one, but you wonder whether your genes are cursed with the same fate. I am twenty- five now. No signs yet, but I’m paranoid.
When my mother first told me that Grandma had a disease called Alzheimer’s it didn’t sink in immediately. To a seven- year- old, death seemed so far away. But described in terms of blank stares and empty minds, the reality became a horror movie, a scary TV show. Then you stomp you feet from the unfairness of it all… my Grandmother. I asked, through tears, “How much longer I would have her. “
Grandma Ramona and I were best of friends. She spoiled me. She was always there for me. How could she reach a point where she may not recognize me anymore?!
An empty book. How long would it be? How much time did we have together? Would we have time to cram in a few more chapters or even just a few more pages before the book went blank? Then I realized that ideally, I could relive the chapters already written with my grandma.
I remember sitting on the couch in front of the crackling fire, while she sat in her old creaky rocking chair. It was a cold night in the middle of December, when I was just seven.
“It’s so cold in here, Grandma. Do we have any more blankets?” I complained.
“Could you do me a favor, sweetie?”
“Okay.” She had turned my sadness into immediate enthusiasm.
“Go up to the attic and see if you can find any of my old blankets or quilts. They should be in the red oak dresser.”
I walked down the hall, grabbing the flashlight off the coffee table. Creak. I tiptoed up the stairs. Three steps. Two steps. Last one. I was surrounded by an antique rocking chair, dozens of neatly stacked boxes, chests, and a bookcase filled with old photo albums. Flipping through the pages of an album, I didn’t see any familiar faces. I turned to the chest next to me and opened it up with a suspenseful squeak. Inside there were old scarves and dresses. Grandma must have looked lovely in these! The next chest contained some old books, and faded pictures of Grandpa. There was an old doll house made of wood. Inside were rooms filled with small wooden dolls. These must have been some of the toys Grandma played with when she was a kid.
In the corner of the dark room was a solid red oak dresser. As I opened it up the hollow, woody smell entered my nostrils, along with the smell of cedar and mothballs. The drawer contained exactly what I was looking for - a large stack of blankets. Now the question was choosing between the dusty blue one, the soft pink one, the earthy green one... Or the most elaborate blanket I had ever seen. I pulled it out, seeing many patches of bright colors. My eyes skimmed the squares, stopping on a few of the many elaborate designs that were delicately sewed into the material.
Dreading the thought of parting with it, I grabbed this one, quickly bringing it down to grandma. Her eyes shone with joy as I smoothed it out for her to see.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was in the old closet in the corner of the attic.”
Grandma closed her eyes and said dreamily, “This quilt brings back memories. Memories of my childhood.”
“This one is pretty.” I said as I pointed to the top left square.
There was a picture of church bells with two people underneath, a man and a woman, kissing.
“Grandma, who are those two people?”
“Well, the woman is me, and that is your Grandpa.”
“Why is there a church and bells? And why are you guys wearing really nice clothes?”
Grandma chuckled. “This patch, describes our wedding day.”
“When did you meet Grandpa? And how?” All those questions ran through my mind for the first time.
“Now, when I first met Edward, your Grandfather, I was nineteen. We met in Manchester, New Hampshire, and it was a love at first sight. Oh, I remember how he went up to me at that carnival and asked me to dance. He was such a gentleman, your grandfather!" remembered my grandmother, pausing for a few seconds.
“Tell me more! What happened next?” I asked, captivated.
She continued. “We met that night and were immediately inseparable. We would see each other every day. Once in a while we would get into arguments- just small ones about something silly, of course. Then later in the evening he would throw pebbles at my bedroom window, and everything would be fine. But, two months after we met, he received a letter telling him that he had to go fight in the Second World War. I was devastated- I loved him so much. Saying goodbye was almost impossible. But in those days what had to be done, had to be done. So, anxiously I waited for him to come home. Weeks went by, then months. Still no sign of Edward. Finally, years went by- four to be exact. Can you imagine that, Maggie? Four whole years- not a single letter, not a word from him. By that time, I was about ready to give up. But then, one sunny afternoon, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it, and guess who was there?”
"Grandpa!" I exclaimed.
"Yes! Your grandfather was there at the doorstep, in his tattered army uniform, with a bouquet of roses in his hand. I couldn't talk, I couldn't move, I couldn't even cry. I froze, shocked. After four long years, he had come back to me!" Grandma paused for a second, wiping a tear from her eye.
"A month later, Edward and I got married in the nearby church. He invited many of his friends from the army, and I invited my friends from school. Oh, Maggie, that day was as magical as the day Edward and I met," concluded grandma with a nostalgic smile on her face.
“What about this one?”
I pointed to another square. This one was a picture of a beach. A little girl with pigtails was building a sand castle, while a little boy played with a big ball.
“Our trip to the beach, Hampton Beach.”
“The beach! I want to go someday.”
“It was a hot summer day in the middle of July. One of those days when you buy a giant scoop of ice cream for five cents, not caring whether it drips all over you as you run down the street. I was a little girl back then, just seven, like you! You see, we were living in our summer home at the time. We had a beautiful view of the ocean. Everyday my brother and I would sit on the patio and listen to the waves wash up on the shore. That day, my parents and big brother, decided to go to the beach to cool off. Since we lived right by the beach we just gathered some sandwiches, towels, chairs, and a big inflatable ball.”
“Wha’d you do there?”
“My mom set up the towels and chairs under the umbrella, while me and my brother went to play. We both wanted the beach ball, so we decided to take turns playing with it. While he was tossing the ball around, I built a gigantic sand castle. It was almost two feet tall and a foot wide, decorated with all types of shells and seaweed.”
“That sounds fun! Can we go there someday? I also want to build a sandcastle.”
“I can take you there over the summer, when school is out.”
“Really? Mommy says that I’ve been there when I was four, but I don’t remember anything about it. But, keep going, what happened?”
“After a while of playing around in the sand, we took out the sandwiches and ate in the shade, under the umbrella. When we finished eating, my brother and I decided to have a swimming competition. The race was from one buoy to another one which was at about twenty feet away. Dad whistled loudly, signaling for us to start. Both of us swam to the first buoy. But on our way back brother got ahead of me. Then, out of nowhere a big wave came along, and we got separated. I was washed towards the buoy while brother was pushed away, therefore I won the race.”
“But, you only won because the wave came along and washed you to the buoy.”
“In the end my mom and dad decided that brother would have won if the wave didn’t hit. Tired, yet relaxed after spending a day on the beach, we went home. We would spend our summer breaks like that, until school started again.”
“Awww. I wish I could spend my whole summer on the beach and never go to school again.”
“I can take you there this summer if you’d like.”
“Can you?”
“Sure, anything for you.”
Eyes wandering, in search of another exciting square, I looked in all directions of the quilt, when an appealing one caught my attention. The square depicted a young woman holding hands with a young man.
“Oh, who are you holding hands with? Is that grandpa again?”
“Why no, it isn’t! That sweetie is Raymond. This square describes my very first date, when I was sixteen. Sweet sixteen,” she said with a chuckle.
“Raymond? What did he look like? Did you like him?”
“Well, he was a tall, handsome guy. A little older that I was. I’m glad you asked! We met in a museum.”
“A museum? How?”
“I was waking through a room when he rushed by, bumping into me. I fell down, shocked. He held out his hand, and helped me up like a gentleman, apologizing for being careless. Right then and there, he asked me to go out with him the next evening! That next evening, he came to my doorstep with a bouquet of roses. He took me out to dinner at a small diner at the edge of town. They were playing the newest type of music, so he asked me to dance, and we spent a hours after dinner dancing the swing. He was a great dancer, you know. Oh, it was wonderful!" Intrigued, I waited for her to continue.
"Then, he took me to the cinema to see a movie. It was one of those old, romantic, black and white movies that always ends with a kiss. After the movie, he walked me home, and before leaving, kissed me good night. That was my first kiss."
“But why didn’t you marry Raymond? You sounded like you had a lot of fun that night.”
“I was only sixteen back then, and very naive. Raymond wanted to get married, but my parents said I was still too young. He was an impatient person and wasn’t willing to wait a few more years, so we split up.”
“Oh…” I was a bit disappointed. After all, Grandma’s first date sounded so magical, just so romantic. I just wanted to see a happy ending to their romance.
“Oh Maggie, these things happen all the time! Besides, if I were to marry Raymond, I would never have met your grandfather.” She had convinced me, making me forget the disappointment that I felt but a minute before.
After she finished her story, my eyes wandered around searching for another interesting picture, when my eyes come upon a blank square, at the bottom of the quilt.
“Grandma, why is this square empty?”
“I am leaving the square open for something really special. After all, I am not as young as I used to be, but I think I‘ll still have a few more adventures in my life time.”
“What will you fill it with?”
“A small surprise.”
Back then, when I was a child, my Grandma Ramona and I spent a lot of time together, but out of all the days I spent with her, that day I still remember perfectly to that day. Ten years ago, when I was fifteen (six years after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s), she passed away. By that time her book of life was nothing more than a blank diary, stripped of all words.
A few months after her death, I went to her house in Manchester to help collect her belongings. I walked up to the bedroom where I used to stay when I came to her house as a kid. When I walked, in I saw the bed I used to sleep in. The fireplace was dark empty of all life. In the corner of the room sat Grandma’s old rocking chair, with the quilt lying on top of it- completed.
Secretly, Grandmother had completed the empty square, just like she said she wanted to. In needle work, as fine detailed as the other squares, was a little girl by the fireplace with her grandmother, sitting in the rocking chair, holding a quilt.
About the Author
Diana Chen
Currently about to graduate from Challenger, Diana Chen likes reading, drawing, swimming, biking, and skating along with listening to music and playing the piano. In school, she prefers math to other subjects. She lives in Mountain View, California.
Grade: 8th
People say life is like a book. We add chapters as we create more memories and the memories then turn into history - history that we remember, share, laugh about, enjoy, and even cry over. The thickness of any one person’s book depends on the life they have lived. Some are thick and full of adventure. Some might be thin. Regardless of the length, each book is as unique and special as the life it represents. But it’s the ending that determines the value; the lessons, the morals, and the principles by which a person lived and connected their affairs.
Alzheimer’s is a disease that erases memories. It slithers into the book of life almost unnoticeably. At first it chips away at words, merely shortening them. Then come sentences. Next, paragraphs, then pages, and finally entire chapters. Gradually, the book becomes blank, empty pages- nothingness.
The disease becomes more and more frightening when it strikes closer to home. Not only is it your loved one, but you wonder whether your genes are cursed with the same fate. I am twenty- five now. No signs yet, but I’m paranoid.
When my mother first told me that Grandma had a disease called Alzheimer’s it didn’t sink in immediately. To a seven- year- old, death seemed so far away. But described in terms of blank stares and empty minds, the reality became a horror movie, a scary TV show. Then you stomp you feet from the unfairness of it all… my Grandmother. I asked, through tears, “How much longer I would have her. “
Grandma Ramona and I were best of friends. She spoiled me. She was always there for me. How could she reach a point where she may not recognize me anymore?!
An empty book. How long would it be? How much time did we have together? Would we have time to cram in a few more chapters or even just a few more pages before the book went blank? Then I realized that ideally, I could relive the chapters already written with my grandma.
I remember sitting on the couch in front of the crackling fire, while she sat in her old creaky rocking chair. It was a cold night in the middle of December, when I was just seven.
“It’s so cold in here, Grandma. Do we have any more blankets?” I complained.
“Could you do me a favor, sweetie?”
“Okay.” She had turned my sadness into immediate enthusiasm.
“Go up to the attic and see if you can find any of my old blankets or quilts. They should be in the red oak dresser.”
I walked down the hall, grabbing the flashlight off the coffee table. Creak. I tiptoed up the stairs. Three steps. Two steps. Last one. I was surrounded by an antique rocking chair, dozens of neatly stacked boxes, chests, and a bookcase filled with old photo albums. Flipping through the pages of an album, I didn’t see any familiar faces. I turned to the chest next to me and opened it up with a suspenseful squeak. Inside there were old scarves and dresses. Grandma must have looked lovely in these! The next chest contained some old books, and faded pictures of Grandpa. There was an old doll house made of wood. Inside were rooms filled with small wooden dolls. These must have been some of the toys Grandma played with when she was a kid.
In the corner of the dark room was a solid red oak dresser. As I opened it up the hollow, woody smell entered my nostrils, along with the smell of cedar and mothballs. The drawer contained exactly what I was looking for - a large stack of blankets. Now the question was choosing between the dusty blue one, the soft pink one, the earthy green one... Or the most elaborate blanket I had ever seen. I pulled it out, seeing many patches of bright colors. My eyes skimmed the squares, stopping on a few of the many elaborate designs that were delicately sewed into the material.
Dreading the thought of parting with it, I grabbed this one, quickly bringing it down to grandma. Her eyes shone with joy as I smoothed it out for her to see.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was in the old closet in the corner of the attic.”
Grandma closed her eyes and said dreamily, “This quilt brings back memories. Memories of my childhood.”
“This one is pretty.” I said as I pointed to the top left square.
There was a picture of church bells with two people underneath, a man and a woman, kissing.
“Grandma, who are those two people?”
“Well, the woman is me, and that is your Grandpa.”
“Why is there a church and bells? And why are you guys wearing really nice clothes?”
Grandma chuckled. “This patch, describes our wedding day.”
“When did you meet Grandpa? And how?” All those questions ran through my mind for the first time.
“Now, when I first met Edward, your Grandfather, I was nineteen. We met in Manchester, New Hampshire, and it was a love at first sight. Oh, I remember how he went up to me at that carnival and asked me to dance. He was such a gentleman, your grandfather!" remembered my grandmother, pausing for a few seconds.
“Tell me more! What happened next?” I asked, captivated.
She continued. “We met that night and were immediately inseparable. We would see each other every day. Once in a while we would get into arguments- just small ones about something silly, of course. Then later in the evening he would throw pebbles at my bedroom window, and everything would be fine. But, two months after we met, he received a letter telling him that he had to go fight in the Second World War. I was devastated- I loved him so much. Saying goodbye was almost impossible. But in those days what had to be done, had to be done. So, anxiously I waited for him to come home. Weeks went by, then months. Still no sign of Edward. Finally, years went by- four to be exact. Can you imagine that, Maggie? Four whole years- not a single letter, not a word from him. By that time, I was about ready to give up. But then, one sunny afternoon, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it, and guess who was there?”
"Grandpa!" I exclaimed.
"Yes! Your grandfather was there at the doorstep, in his tattered army uniform, with a bouquet of roses in his hand. I couldn't talk, I couldn't move, I couldn't even cry. I froze, shocked. After four long years, he had come back to me!" Grandma paused for a second, wiping a tear from her eye.
"A month later, Edward and I got married in the nearby church. He invited many of his friends from the army, and I invited my friends from school. Oh, Maggie, that day was as magical as the day Edward and I met," concluded grandma with a nostalgic smile on her face.
“What about this one?”
I pointed to another square. This one was a picture of a beach. A little girl with pigtails was building a sand castle, while a little boy played with a big ball.
“Our trip to the beach, Hampton Beach.”
“The beach! I want to go someday.”
“It was a hot summer day in the middle of July. One of those days when you buy a giant scoop of ice cream for five cents, not caring whether it drips all over you as you run down the street. I was a little girl back then, just seven, like you! You see, we were living in our summer home at the time. We had a beautiful view of the ocean. Everyday my brother and I would sit on the patio and listen to the waves wash up on the shore. That day, my parents and big brother, decided to go to the beach to cool off. Since we lived right by the beach we just gathered some sandwiches, towels, chairs, and a big inflatable ball.”
“Wha’d you do there?”
“My mom set up the towels and chairs under the umbrella, while me and my brother went to play. We both wanted the beach ball, so we decided to take turns playing with it. While he was tossing the ball around, I built a gigantic sand castle. It was almost two feet tall and a foot wide, decorated with all types of shells and seaweed.”
“That sounds fun! Can we go there someday? I also want to build a sandcastle.”
“I can take you there over the summer, when school is out.”
“Really? Mommy says that I’ve been there when I was four, but I don’t remember anything about it. But, keep going, what happened?”
“After a while of playing around in the sand, we took out the sandwiches and ate in the shade, under the umbrella. When we finished eating, my brother and I decided to have a swimming competition. The race was from one buoy to another one which was at about twenty feet away. Dad whistled loudly, signaling for us to start. Both of us swam to the first buoy. But on our way back brother got ahead of me. Then, out of nowhere a big wave came along, and we got separated. I was washed towards the buoy while brother was pushed away, therefore I won the race.”
“But, you only won because the wave came along and washed you to the buoy.”
“In the end my mom and dad decided that brother would have won if the wave didn’t hit. Tired, yet relaxed after spending a day on the beach, we went home. We would spend our summer breaks like that, until school started again.”
“Awww. I wish I could spend my whole summer on the beach and never go to school again.”
“I can take you there this summer if you’d like.”
“Can you?”
“Sure, anything for you.”
Eyes wandering, in search of another exciting square, I looked in all directions of the quilt, when an appealing one caught my attention. The square depicted a young woman holding hands with a young man.
“Oh, who are you holding hands with? Is that grandpa again?”
“Why no, it isn’t! That sweetie is Raymond. This square describes my very first date, when I was sixteen. Sweet sixteen,” she said with a chuckle.
“Raymond? What did he look like? Did you like him?”
“Well, he was a tall, handsome guy. A little older that I was. I’m glad you asked! We met in a museum.”
“A museum? How?”
“I was waking through a room when he rushed by, bumping into me. I fell down, shocked. He held out his hand, and helped me up like a gentleman, apologizing for being careless. Right then and there, he asked me to go out with him the next evening! That next evening, he came to my doorstep with a bouquet of roses. He took me out to dinner at a small diner at the edge of town. They were playing the newest type of music, so he asked me to dance, and we spent a hours after dinner dancing the swing. He was a great dancer, you know. Oh, it was wonderful!" Intrigued, I waited for her to continue.
"Then, he took me to the cinema to see a movie. It was one of those old, romantic, black and white movies that always ends with a kiss. After the movie, he walked me home, and before leaving, kissed me good night. That was my first kiss."
“But why didn’t you marry Raymond? You sounded like you had a lot of fun that night.”
“I was only sixteen back then, and very naive. Raymond wanted to get married, but my parents said I was still too young. He was an impatient person and wasn’t willing to wait a few more years, so we split up.”
“Oh…” I was a bit disappointed. After all, Grandma’s first date sounded so magical, just so romantic. I just wanted to see a happy ending to their romance.
“Oh Maggie, these things happen all the time! Besides, if I were to marry Raymond, I would never have met your grandfather.” She had convinced me, making me forget the disappointment that I felt but a minute before.
After she finished her story, my eyes wandered around searching for another interesting picture, when my eyes come upon a blank square, at the bottom of the quilt.
“Grandma, why is this square empty?”
“I am leaving the square open for something really special. After all, I am not as young as I used to be, but I think I‘ll still have a few more adventures in my life time.”
“What will you fill it with?”
“A small surprise.”
Back then, when I was a child, my Grandma Ramona and I spent a lot of time together, but out of all the days I spent with her, that day I still remember perfectly to that day. Ten years ago, when I was fifteen (six years after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s), she passed away. By that time her book of life was nothing more than a blank diary, stripped of all words.
A few months after her death, I went to her house in Manchester to help collect her belongings. I walked up to the bedroom where I used to stay when I came to her house as a kid. When I walked, in I saw the bed I used to sleep in. The fireplace was dark empty of all life. In the corner of the room sat Grandma’s old rocking chair, with the quilt lying on top of it- completed.
Secretly, Grandmother had completed the empty square, just like she said she wanted to. In needle work, as fine detailed as the other squares, was a little girl by the fireplace with her grandmother, sitting in the rocking chair, holding a quilt.
About the Author
Diana Chen
Currently about to graduate from Challenger, Diana Chen likes reading, drawing, swimming, biking, and skating along with listening to music and playing the piano. In school, she prefers math to other subjects. She lives in Mountain View, California.
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