Hanging the Picture

When my maternal grandmother passed away in October, there was a picture that hung on her family room wall; that picture was left for me. We had talked about it when she was alive, and she told me that it was mine if I wanted it. I left it in her house for awhile, because bringing it home meant she was really gone and things were changing. But, as renovations to her house were being started and tackled, my mother sent it home with me so that it would not get damaged in the chaos or taken by someone else. Unfortunately, I still wasn't ready for it to be here. For literally months, that picture has been sitting on my living room floor, propped against the wall, with the back facing out. Tonight we hung the picture over our fireplace. It is a picture of a brightly lit cottage nestled among trees, but only a stone's throw from the ocean. One large wave is rolling onto the shore, just large enough to make its presence known, but not big enough to be a threat to the cottage. After hanging the picture, my husband and I sat on our couch staring at it. We decided we both could live in a place like that, but the waves made us nervous. Too easily a storm could break, and wipe out the cozy cottage, we decided our cottage would need to be much further away from the water. Then we decided that perhaps my grandmother was living in a cottage just like that one now in heaven, and outside of the picture, to the left, in a place that we couldn't see was her large rose garden. That way she would have everything from nature that she loved, close at hand; trees, water, and a flower garden. And she need never worry about waves crashing into her cottage, because that wouldn't happen in heaven. It was a happy thought and a sad one all at the same time. But, even though I got a little choked up seeing this picture finally hanging in my house, it was time.