Mason Jar Summers by Sandy Brannan

Jacob leaned into the comfort of his wife’s hand on his back. He knew she was sad too, but there was no way she could fully understand what he was feeling right now. From their place on the front pew of the church, he could almost see his grandmother’s face.  He fought to focus on anything else, and finally, his eyes landed on the flowers that seemed to spill over each other, each one a little bigger than the last.

He smiled in spite of himself. She would have hated every single arrangement. They were the kind of flowers you expect to see at funerals, the kind people send when they don’t know what to say or do. They were nothing like the flowers she had loved.

Glancing at Adrianna, he saw that she was fighting back tears. Nana had loved her from the start. He closed his eyes as he thought about that summer, the only one he could ever remember that brought with it a sense of dread as he drove through his grandmother’s neighborhood.

“She’s gonna love you. You know that, right?”

Adrianna had laughed before answering, “You’re the one who isn’t sure. Not me.”

Reaching over to grab her hand to steady his nerves, he added, “She just has to. My two favorite girls just have to love each other.”

And they did.

When Sally had stepped out onto the porch, had seen Jacob’s face light up while opening the car door for the dark-haired beauty who was staring up at him, she had known her grandson had found the kind of love she had shared with Matthew for almost fifty years. She wished he could be here now to witness what she was seeing.

Jacob opened his eyes when he heard the piano. He knew the song would be “How Great Thou Art.” How many times had he listened to her sing it in her off-key voice that always made him smile? He was grateful for the memories he had of her. Listening to the vocalist sing his grandmother’s favorite hymn, he thought back to all the summers he had spent with her.

They called them Mason Jar Summers because of the flowers. He couldn’t remember how or when it had started, but he thought it might have been the summer when he was around eight or nine, the summer his grandpa had let him clean out the shed near the chicken coop. He had found an old wooden crate full of mason jars. At first, he had big plans to fill them with bugs and spiders and maybe even fireflies to light up the room he used when he slept over at their house. But then he had looked up and into his grandpa’s eyes. He didn’t understand the tears he saw there.

“Jacob, listen to me. One day you’re going to find a girl to love, one who will love you back, and you’re going to want to give her the world. But, Son, you need to understand something. She doesn’t want all kinds of shiny things. No, she just wants to know that you love her. Pick her some flowers from the yard. Put them in a jar. And then watch her face when you hand that jar full of flowers to her.”

Jacob didn’t understand, but he went to the garden hose and used it to rinse out every one of those jars. He asked his grandpa if he could have them. And then he spent the entire summer picking flowers for his grandmother, filling a new jar for her every day.

His grandpa was right. Just looking at her face told him all he needed to know.

Every summer until he was old enough to go to college, he spent time at his grandparents’ house. At first, when he was young, he would stay for several weeks. But as he got older and had other interests, he would only stay a few nights at a time. When his grandpa died during Jacob’s freshman year of college, he had carefully brought a jar full of flowers from the campus to his grandmother’s house. It was the only way he knew how to share with her how sad he was.

When the preacher cleared his throat, Jacob shook off the memory. He allowed his eyes to drift over to the woman in the blue dress, the one who had meant the world to him, the one who was impossibly still in that shiny oak casket.

He reached under the pew to make sure it was still there. He knew he was going to need it soon.

When the service ended and it was time to help carry his grandmother to her final resting place, he stood, gave his wife a small smile, and bent down to pick up the slim jar full of wispy flowers. He knew she would have approved. She always said she liked the flowers from the yard the best, the ones that didn’t show off like the flashy ones did.

Before the casket was shut, he made his way up front. Looking down into the face that had made him smile for more years than he could count, he soaked her in, not wanting to forget how she looked. The peace on her face made him happy. He knew she was with Jesus, knew she was seeing flowers much more beautiful than anything she had ever seen before.

He also knew what she would have said as soon as her eyes landed on his gift, “Jacob, they’re the prettiest ones yet.”

Weeping softly at the thought of never hearing her voice again, he gently placed the jar and flowers beside her before nodding that the casket could now be closed.

Taking his place, he lifted the box that held the woman who taught him how to love, the woman who had taught him how to live. He carried her away from the crowd, out to the huge black car that waited to take her to rest beside her husband.

As the car door shut, he lifted his hand to his lips and blew her a kiss. He knew it would be hours before he and Adrianna could be alone. He knew they would cry, knew they would pray together, and knew they would find their way outside to their garden. Later that night, they would sit on their porch with cups of coffee, holding hands over the table that would only have one thing on it. They would smile as they looked at the flowers they had picked from their yard. He hoped they would talk about the children they would have one day. He knew it would be a long time, but he already dreamed of the day they would have grandchildren of their own, lovely little people they would introduce Mason Jar Summers to.

His grandmother would have approved.

Turning toward his car, he saw that Adrianna was already waiting for him with the lights on. He was glad he wouldn’t have to say good-bye alone.