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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2047803-Tag-youre-it
Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #2047803
Told from the perspective of Jana at 6 and 19 surrounding the topic of family struggles
I sprint away, avoiding the hand reaching out in search of me. Laughter dances it's way through my whole self and I dance along with it, the two becoming one as my feet hit the ground crushing dandelions. "Tag," my cousin Allen cries out, laughter jumping around him as well. "you're it!!"
The silly game continues until I run out of breath, and I turn back to the huge white gazebo with flowered vines surrounding it like snakes, all slithering up to the point at the top making it look like it belongs near a palace. A picnic table is claimed for us, covered in chocolates, cake, chips, pretzels and candies, but I go straight towards my grandfather.
"Hello Jana," he says with a huge smile on his face, "Happy birthday!! 6 years old, huh?"
"Yes indeed," I respond, jumping into his arms. He winces in response, I tend to forget he is just a bit fragile.
We spend the day together, as we grew quite close after my mother went to the "helping" thing. I'm still not quite sure what it is, or why she's there, I just know it's where people go when they get in trouble. My grandpa explains it as an "adult time out". My dad continues to cook on the grill, quietly. He's been quiet often since she left.
After eating and opening presents, my grandpa and I go out to the field to fly the kite he put together. I watch as it flys through the air, the face of Snow White smiling down at me. When the kite crashes back to the ground he lifts me in the air instead.
"Grandpa, you've got gray stuff!" I say, running my little hand through his mostly brown hair.
He lets a smile take over his face and says, "That's hair too, just a sign that your grandpas getting old."
I gasp, gripping my own brown hair in my hands as to search for my gray hairs. "You mean that on birthdays your hair starts turning gray?"
"Don't you worry, not for a very long time," he says in response.
I let out a huge sigh of relief as he plops me back to the ground. "I have to head out now, but I love you very much. Happy birthday, Jana." His hand meets my shoulder, and I turn to look at it. I realize the hand looks much too young to be his, and I shoot back to reality.
"Oh, I almost forgot, happy 19 birthday Jana," Alexandra says, pulling her hand off my shoulder. She gives me another tissue, and I allow a smile to grace my lips. Alexandra is the most amazing cousin you could ask for, but I'm the only one who knows how lovely she is, as all the other cousins ignore her for being transgender. "Even though I know it is quite an awful day for it."
I look around me, trying to register it still. Why do people call this a wake, when the person it's for is sure as hell not waking up again? After giving a smile and thanks to Alexandra, I stand up, willing myself to go see the pictures. The smiling face of my grandpa greets me in them, and I smile back. One of my first memories is in these pictures, that of my 6th birthday party where he tried playing tag with Alexandra and I, gave up and then flew a kite for me.
I can't explain how beautiful it is to see his eyes lit up and color in his face again. He helped to raise me after my mother went to jail as result of drugs and robbery, and my father began confiding most in silence.
I walk away from the photos, avoiding the pain reaching out for my heart. I don't walk quickly enough, and the words "Tag, you're it" don't need to be said for me to know I've been caught.
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