Fletcher had been looking at the grassy median in his rearview mirror when the minty aroma of an old front yard pierced through his windshield. There, just up the street, was that little patch of grass that was lined with mint bushes. It was here that Fletcher had talked to his mother about the upcoming last days of his grandmother’s life.

“I need to go to Denver to see Nonnie one last time.” She stood tall with a determination to be positive. This did not stop her from shedding a tear, however.

“It’s okay, mommer. It’ll all be better when this is over, when she’s out of this pain.”

Fletcher’s mother let out a few more tears, but these ones were different, for they came with a hug. She must have been proud that her son could understand and cope with the death of his grandma, and at such a young age too.

Fletcher now tightened his grip on the steering wheel and headed towards the neighborhood’s church.

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