Making Memories

She stared out her kitchen window, beyond the yard and small livestock pens, at the frozen pond in the pasture. The laughter and joyful squeals echoed across the yard and through the window. She could tell they were having a blast.

Her grandkids had been scheming and planning for months. She'd heard the cousins chattering excitedly while they visited earlier that summer. When they found out they were all coming to the farm for Christmas it had started. They'd clear the snow from the pond into huge piles, build forts and play hockey. It was going to be such fun!

Her stomach was in knots. Tears streamed down her cheeks. With every joyful squeal her breathe caught in her throat as she fought the urge to vomit.

She'd tried to convince them that it would be better just to go down the road to the outdoor rink to skate and play hockey. That's what their parents had always done. They had all kinds of reasons that wouldn't work. There would be bigger kids at the public rink and they wouldn't let them play. It would be WAY more fun to have a private rink all their of own, where they could skate whenever they wanted and not have to wait for someone to give them a ride.

Even Grandpa had put his two cents in. 'Let them have some fun!' He winked. 'They have no idea how much work it'll take to clear enough ice for a good game of shinny. We did it every winter when we were kids. It's those kind of things that make the best memories.'

She had her own memories, but she had never once talked about that horrific day. Roger had been her best friend in the world. He was such a handsome boy. Crazy blonde curls swirled around his cherubic face and there was always a twinkle in those icy blue eyes. He'd always been a daredevil, looking for a thrill. That warm Spring afternoon was no different. They'd been warned to stay off the river, as the thaw had begun and the ice was unpredictable. Roger didn't give it a second thought. He'd raced his bike down the small valley and onto the ice, like he had a hundred times before. He shouted and squealed as his bike skidded, sliding across the ice.

'Watch this!' he shouted, as he raced for the ramp.

'Roger, NO!' she'd tried to warn him, but he just waved her off and jumped anyway.

The noise made as the ice cracked had been deafening. Roger's eyes were huge and filled with terror as he went down, but he didn't make a sound.

She raced up the hill and into the middle of the busy street, screaming for help and that was where her memory grew fuzzy. Someone had stopped and they'd taken her home. She'd heard they'd found his bike, but his body had been swept downstream. They could only hope it would wash up somewhere once the river fully thawed. As far as she could recall it never had.

From that day forward, whenever she looked at a frozen river or pond, she had visions of Roger. Trapped in the water below, looking for a way out before the cold could take him. But she never told anyone.

She snapped back to the present when she realized the laughter and squeals were drawing closer. She looked back out the window to see the grandkids jostling their way past the chicken coop and drawing closer to the house. She quickly turned on the kettle and raced for the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face, she hoped no one would notice her puffy cheeks and eyes red from crying.

She took a deep breathe and headed back to the kitchen. Plating cookies, fresh from the oven and making hot chocolate, she muttered a prayer, thanking God for keeping the kids safe from Roger's fate.

As they banged through the door, Jay's green eyes sparkled. 'Oh man, Grandma! That was AWESOME!! You should have come!'

'I'm glad you guys had fun,' she smiled lovingly, 'But these old bones just can't handle that cold weather.' She was thankful nobody ever questioned her old bones excuse, as she hugged each of her grandbabies tight to her chest as they came through the kitchen to grab their snacks and hot chocolate.