The Last Word

First I'd like to thank Rebecca for asking me to guest here at her blog today and share a freaky story with you. This one still stands out because it's personal to my family. See, my grandmother passed away when I was around 20 years old. She passed about nine months after my grandfather and family consensus was that she was heartbroken (though they fought like cats and dogs before they both got sick).

The family came together to clean out the house and disbursed the various items my grandparents had collected through the years. One of these items was a large picture my grandfather gave my grandmother. Now, it was well known through the family that my grandmother hated the picture, but my grandfather wouldn't let her get rid of it. My father brought it home and my mom put it on the mantel over the fireplace.

A few months later, my parents and I were sitting in our living room watching TV. It was a nice summer day where we could have the windows open and enjoy the sunshine. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and no breeze to be seen for miles. We were all watching TV when suddenly, the picture fell off the mantel and crashed through the wrought iron grate in front of the fireplace. Glass shattered everywhere and the picture was ruined because it now had a very nice, heavy piece of iron torn through the canvas.

It's a family joke now that grandma got the last word.