The RiverHome Weeping Willow

A Toby Baxter Short Story about Grief

As my readers know, grief has been in the forefront of my mind since my Jan passed away on May 3.

Today I offer this Toby Baxter short story, based on that grief, in the hope that it may be helpful some day for you, or, more importantly, for the children in your life who may experience loss.

The focus of the story is on Toby, whose Grandma Baxter passed away. The story takes place two years after book 7 in the Toby Baxter series (although books 6 and 7 are not yet out!).

(Here’s a link to the PDF in case you want a copy to share.)

**

Toby Baxter sat in the church pew, staring straight ahead. On the screens above were pictures of Grandma Baxter. Pictures from when she was young. Pictures with her parents and brothers. Pictures of her and Grandpa Baxter when they started dating in high school. Pictures of her and Grandpa Baxter with Toby’s dad. And pictures with Toby.

She’d died six weeks earlier. A few weeks after his 16^th birthday. Cancer had taken her. A week before she died she sat with him and told him that she probably wasn’t going to defeat it. She had smiled at him. She told him that she loved him. That she was proud of him.

He hugged her. He cried on her shoulder. He didn’t want to let her go.

But a week later she was gone.

He had cried almost every day since. His heart ached. He missed her.

Grandma was obviously loved. The church was full. Many of those attending were wearing lavender-colored clothing, Grandma’s favorite color. Neither Toby nor his dad had anything lavender, so mom ordered a couple of shirts off of Amazon. As did, apparently, Sid’s mom, and Derrick’s mom, as they both had the same shirt. As did several of the men.

A full band—drums, two keyboards, two guitars, a bass guitar, and several singers took their places on the stage. As did a choir of about 25 people of all ages. Years ago Grandma was the keyboard player in that band. She told Toby that when he was born, she retired from the band to be his Grandma.

It was evident from the first note that this was going to be a very different kind of funeral. The music was upbeat. It radiated joy and hope. Just like Grandma Baxter did.

The pastor told a few funny stories about her. Then a family friend got up to read some stories written by family members and a few close friends. Most of the stories in some way talked about what a beautiful, gracious, loving, supportive person Grandma Baxter was.

That she was so loved, and so highly thought of, surprised Toby. But it shouldn’t have.

Because she was all of that and more to me.

He thought back to their last Christmas, about eight months ago. Her gift to him was a special experience that the two of them would do together, something she thought that he would enjoy.

She took him to the small regional airport where he flew a flight simulator. It was so cool. He was able to fly not only around Minneapolis but also in Paris, France. Once he got the hang of it, he flew over the Eiffel Tower and under some of the bridges in Paris. He crashed before he could make his way over to Disneyland Paris.

Then she took him out to his favorite pizza restaurant.

He felt the tears filling his eyes once again.

Toby’s was the last letter read:

When I turned 13, my Grandma gave me a Sword. The Sword had belonged to my Grandpa Baxter and then to my dad. She said it had a name, Loach, pronounced Lay-uk, which is Celtic for HERO. She gave it to me to remind me of the kind of man she believes I can be as I grow up. Honorable. Enterprising. Responsible. And Original. I miss her every day. I love her.

Grandma, thank you for loving me. Thank you for believing in me. And thank you for believing me, and you know what I’m talking about.

His dad and mom smiled at him. They, too, knew what he was talking about.

RiverHome!

As did Sid, and Derrick, sitting behind him. And Rainie. Rainie! She squeezed his hand three times. Their secret code for, I Love You! He squeezed her hand back three times.

He used his other hand to wipe the tears from his eyes.

While watching the video montage, set to Barry Manilow music for some reason, he felt someone nudge his shoulder from behind.

“Your Grandma was hot back in the day,” Sid whispered into his ear.

“Gross!” Toby whispered back. But he had to admit, she was a beautiful woman inside and out. She surely didn’t look 70.

With all of the music, the stories, and the video montage, the service lasted almost two hours. But it went by fast. He’d never experienced anything like it in church, feeling so many different emotions all at once.

He didn’t really want to hang out and have people talk to him after the service so he and Rainie headed to a quiet room just off of the worship center.

He sat down on a couch and Rainie sat down next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. She didn’t say anything. She simply held his hand.

“This really hurts,” he finally said. “I’ve not felt this sad before. It kind of scares me.”

Rainie wisely didn’t say anything.

They sat again in silence for a few moments…

“I get it, Toby. It really does hurt.”

“Mathilda?” Rainie asked. “Where did you come from?”

Mathilda pulled up a chair and sat down on it. Actually, she had to climb onto it as it was a bit too high for her, as she was just under four feet tall. Her blonde hair was cut short, revealing her elfin ears. She wore her usual fantasy-novel type clothes and the furry boots that Toby, on his first visit to RiverHome, thought were hobbit feet. Her bright blue eyes lit up the room.

“Well… obviously I came from RiverHome…”

“Obviously,” Toby said. “But why are you here?”

“Because your Grandma died, Toby. And I know what that’s like.”

Toby had met the river elf Grandma on his first trip to RiverHome a few years ago. She had reminded him of his Grandma Baxter, although she was much older than his Grandma. He remembered the moment when, on a return visit, he had learned that she had died. He could still feel the ache in his heart.

“Yes. That ache, Toby. That ache,” Mathilda whispered.

Rainie again squeezed his hand three times. He returned it with three squeezes of his own.

“This ache, this grief, does it ever go away?” Toby asked. “Because it really hurts. In fact, it sucks!”

“Can you say that in a church?” Mathilda said, laughing. “But you’re right. I couldn’t have said it better myself. It sucks. And that’s why I’m here. I want to give you a gift. Something that helped me with my grief over Grandma.”

Toby knew what she was about to give him. But he didn’t know what it would say.

Sure enough, she pulled out an ancient compass. He had been given seven such compasses on his seven trips to RiverHome. And a couple of others on special occasions for short stories, as Deckor called them. Toby never quite figured out what Deckor was talking about.

He looked at it. The compass, instead of reading N-E-S-W, read, W-E-E-P.

“WEEP? That’s the gift? I’m doing enough of that without a compass!” Toby said, a bit disappointed.

Mathilda held out her hand.

“Come with me, Toby. Let’s see what the compass wants you to know about that ache in your heart.”

As Toby stood, Rainie remained seated.

“This is his journey, right?” she asked, clearly wanting to go with him but not sure she should.

Mathilda reached out her other hand to her.

“Come, Rainie. He needs you.”

Mathilda led them through a hole that suddenly appeared in the wall. A moment later they found themselves immersed in the spray from the waterfall in RiverHome.

Immediately, the compass began to buzz.

As the compass began to buzz, several things happened at once, which often happened to Toby when he was in RiverHome.

The waterfall split in two, like a curtain.

A warm, bright light radiated out toward them.

The light began to sing. The singing was ethereal.

“Something extremely delicate, light, or otherworldly, possessing a beauty so perfect it seems too flawless for this world,” Mathilda said quietly, in awe.

“Thanks,” Toby said with his own sense of awe.

The singing surrounded them, as did the light.

“Fairies!” Rainie said, hardly able to contain herself. “Fairies, Toby. They are the lights. Fairies. Look at them. They’re beautiful.”

Rainie held up her hand and watched as the tiny Fairies danced in and out of her fingers.

Now swirling around the three of them, the Fairies drew them toward the break in the waterfall.

Toby looked down. They weren’t walking. They were being carried by the Fairies across the water.

Ferried across the water by Fairies!

Toby grinned at his pun.

He reached out his hand to Rainie. She grabbed his.

“This… is…” He couldn’t find the words.

Through the break in the waterfall stood a large tree. As in really large.

It had branches branching everywhere. Each of the long, whip-like branches sprouted leaves, long, thin leaves. But they weren’t green, they were…

“Blue? Are those leaves blue?” Toby asked.

The Fairies deposited them on the ground underneath the middle of the tree.

The music shifted. Still ethereal. But a deep, almost aching sadness filled the singing.

Toby felt something wet fall onto his face. Then something wet hit his arm. Then his head.

He looked up. Little droplets of water were falling onto him. Onto them. But as far as he could tell, it wasn’t raining.

“Those are tears, Toby. The leaves are tears. The tears of people, just like you, who have lost someone they love,” Mathilda explained. “This tree is a Weeping Willow.”

“A weeping willow? We used to have one of those in our front yard. But it didn’t actually weep. Sometimes we would use the long branches as whips and run around like we were Indiana Jones.”

Mathilda smiled. But the smile was sad.

An oxymoron?

“Not really, Toby. Smiles can be sad sometimes. Our Weeping Willow reminds us that hurt happens. That loss happens. That grief happens. It’s a sad, hard part of life but it is a part of life.”

“Why would you want such a tree around like that, to remind you about pain?” Toby asked.

“Precisely, Toby,” Mathilda answered.

“Precisely what?” Toby asked.

“What does the Christmas Giant—or your Santa—remind us of?” Mathilda asked.

“Joy!” Toby and Rainie answered at the same time.

“Jinx!” Toby started to say when Rainie kissed him smack dab on the lips.

He nearly fell over.

“And how about Cupid?” Mathilda went on, once Toby was stable again.

“Love?” responded Rainie, giggling at the power she had over Toby, and how much she liked to kiss him.

“How about Halloween?” Mathilda asked.

“Fear? Scary stuff? At least originally. Now it’s about fun and candy and dressing up,” Toby answered.

“My point is, we have all kinds of images that help draw out emotions in us like joy, happiness, fear, and love, to name a few. But we tend to hide grief. It makes us uncomfortable. We feel like something’s wrong with us. We believe we need to hide it, or even worse, get over it. Quickly.”

“But… we should move on, right?” Toby said.

“Why, Toby, why should we move on from it?”

Toby stared at Mathilda for a moment. “Because it hurts!”

“But why does it hurt, Toby?”

He stared at her again. He didn’t like questions that made him try to connect his emotions to his words. It didn’t come easily for…

“Love!” It came to him in a flash. “It hurts because we love!”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Toby,” Mathilda shouted, clapping her hands and jumping up and down.

Rainie couldn’t help herself. She grabbed him and planted another kiss on him. This time his knees buckled. Thankfully Mathilda caught him in time.

“That’s right, Toby. Love. Grief hurts because we love. And why would we want to move on from love?”

“I… I don’t want to move on from love. But it hurts. We can’t live with that hurt for the rest of our lives, can we?” Toby asked.

That’s when the Weeping Willow began to sing.

A mournful song. Sad. Hitting Toby deep into his soul, wherever my soul is!

Her branches wrapped around the three of them. The Fairies swirled around them.

Tears fell onto Toby from the tree releasing Toby’s own tears.

“I can’t… stop… it hurts… please…”

His compass began to buzz. He pulled it out of his pocket. The needle stopped on W.

Walk with your grief, Toby.

The tree was singing to him.

“Walk with it? Shouldn’t I walk away from it? Or through it?”

You hurt because you love. That love is always with you. The only way through the hurt is to walk with the grief Toby, so that you don’t lose the love on the way. Take it with you.

“But…”

The compass began spinning again, this time stopping on the first E.

Embrace the grief.

“Like, hug it? I only hug what I love…” Toby caught himself. “Ah. Okay. Good one.”

He really is a very smart one, the tree sang to Mathilda.

Yes, hug the grief. But more than that, Toby, don’t run from it. Let it come. Let it do what it needs to do.

The compass spun again, landing on the second E.

Express the ache. And it is an ache. You are right, Toby, we can’t live with that kind of hurt forever. It has to change. It has to heal while the love remains. Talk with someone when you’re hurting. Write letters to your Grandma. Talk to her. Go for walks if you feel the need to move. And, when it hits, let the tears flow.

The compass spun one last time, landing on the P.

Picture love, Toby. Hold onto those memories of your Grandma. Write them down. Maybe put a picture book together of the two of you. Find ways to celebrate her life. And tell her story to your children and their children.

Toby looked at Rainie. She blushed.

They will be who they are in part because of her. Just as you are.

A Fairy landed on his arm. Suddenly, he remembered the moment when his Grandma gave him the Sword Loach after his first trip to RiverHome. He could see it so clearly. He could feel all the feels.

A wave of grief hit him.

“Remembering hurts!” he whispered.

It will for a time, Toby. But remembering is love. Love will eventually win over the hurt.

Another Fairy landed on his head. He found himself in the kitchen at Grandma’s house. The room smelled of chocolate chip cookies. He watched as Grandma put a plate of five cookies in front of him. He could taste them. Every one of them.

He felt a mixture of warmth and sorrow.

Toby felt Rainie’s arms around him. He was sitting on a boulder under the tree. Weeping. The Weeping Willow weeping with him. Mathilda weeping beside them.

“I come here from time to time, Toby,” Mathilda explained, wiping her eyes. “To remember Grandma. And Grandpa. And my parents. The hurt is different now. I still feel it occasionally. Because the love is still there. But the love is much stronger than the hurt.”

The Fairies danced in and around them. Then they joined hands, encircling them. And there, in front of him, was his Grandma Baxter. An image of her, anyway.

“She looks so beautiful, Toby!” Rainie said.

“I love you, my dear Grandson. I love you.”

**

“Toby? Your friends are looking for you,” his dad said, sticking his head into the room… although his head didn’t actually stick to anything, except his neck, of course. Thomas Baxter opened the door fully and Sid and Derrick tentatively walked in.

“Everything okay?” Sid asked.

Rainie smiled at him.

“We’ve been on a bit of an adventure,” she said.

“Not to RiverHome? Doggonit. Without us?” Sid was clearly disappointed.

Toby noticed the redness in his dad’s eyes. He walked over and hugged him. His dad hugged him back and wept on Toby’s shoulder.

“I love her, too, Dad.”

They parted.

“Here. This is from Mathilda.”

Toby handed his dad the compass. As Thomas took it, he disappeared.

“Did he… did your dad… is he in RiverHome? I missed it again!!!” Sid said.

Toby could hear the song of the Weeping Willow.

“Say hi to Grandma for me, Dad.”

**

To Jan

Grandma to Clover, Decker, Mathilda, Phoenix, and Judah

We love you!

We miss you!