"Ring, ring, ring.
Ring, ring, ring.
It's not the phone, it's the door buzzer.
My job is to greet the visitors. I take
their coats and hang them in the closet
next to the wetsuit. If they've brought
food, I take that, too. Almost everyone
brings food. Brownies. Cheesecake.
Banana bread. Casseroles."
It is the last week of Flippa's life. For her grandchild that means 'Six hundred and four thousand, eight hundred' seconds. It is happening because she is very sick, after a long life of swimming, and living, and loving, Flippa has decided that a doctor will help her go to sleep forever. One week to focus on the many wonderful times spent with Gran. Second by second there is less time left. The decision has been made; Gran is at ease with it. One thing that makes her sad is she will not get a chance to taste this year's tomatoes.
Monday dawns with thoughts of Gran walking down to the beach every day (in her flippers) for a swim in the sea. The visit with her today is about those flippers and goggles. She can't swim anymore. Tuesday brings visitors - with food. Everyone brings food. Their coats are hung, the food accepted. Dad (Flippa's son) wonders who will help them eat it all. Wednesday is a day of many tears, shared alone and with visitors who all have stories to tell and memories to relate. Laughter is a part of being together, too. Mom arrives on Thursday, a day when Flippa is feeling a little better. While dad goes to the airport, grandchild and grandmother have time to themselves and a chance to tell a favorite story.
"You were there when I was born.
And now I'm here for you."
"For when I'm set free," she said."
Friday is the last day for visitors; there are many. They stay only a few minutes, saying hello and goodbye. Last to arrive is Mr. Bark, with a joke and a hug, and a final goodbye. Now, there will only be the four of them together, and no one else. On Saturday mom and dad explain what will happen Sunday, assuring that it will be gentle and bring comfort to Gran after all the pain endured. Sunday dawns in sunshine and a cloudless sky. What a surprise when a tiny ripe tomato makes its presence known in the sun's glow. Inside it goes - a final, perfect gift.
Bill Richardson's text is meticulous and emotional, centering fully on the grandchild and love for a cherished grandmother. It is a clear look at what dying with dignity can be; though sad, the story is in no way depressing. Black-and-white artwork, and a deft hand with light and shadow, help readers through the emotions of each passing day. The one spot of color is the tomato. It brings joy at a time of sadness. An afterword explains assisted dying, and a list of resources for parents is included.
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