“Are you sure about this?” I shouted against the roaring wind. “It’s not too late to back out!”

But Grandma just grinned at me.

“As sure as I’ve ever been about anything, Mona!” she shouted back.

How can she be so calm? I thought, my heart pounding so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.

This was insane. I hated heights, and here I was, about to jump out of a plane with my grandmother. I swallowed hard, trying not to imagine all the things that could go wrong.

“Ready?” my instructor asked, pulling me toward the door.

Of course, I wasn’t ready. Not even close.

But Grandma had already shuffled to the edge with her instructor, and before I could even blink, she was gone.

The crazy old woman jumped. Just like that.

“Let’s go!” my instructor yelled, and before I knew it, I was in the air too.

The rush of freefall hit me with force. The wind was roaring in my ears, and the ground so far below looked unreal. I struggled to get my bearings, but I saw my Grandma in the corner of my eye.

She was right next to me, falling through the sky like she’d done it a thousand times before.

But then something strange happened. Grandma reached into her jacket and pulled out something.

With the wind in my face and my eyes watering like crazy, I could barely see anything. But then my eyes locked on the item.

A small silver jar. My heart skipped a beat.

What was Grandma doing? I wondered.

And then, I realized what was going on.

The jar. It was Grandpa’s ashes.

In one swift motion, she unscrewed the lid, and I watched as she held the jar high above her head. The ashes burst into the wind, scattering across the sky and dancing in the sunlight as they floated away.

I couldn’t help it, and I started crying.

We were in mid-flight, with the wind whipping my face and tears streaming down my cheeks. My body felt weightless, from the fall and the moment.

That moment.

It was like I was watching something sacred, something so personal that it didn’t seem real. I was falling through the sky with my grandmother.

And she was releasing my Grandpa’s ashes into the world. Letting him be free.

The wind carried his ashes far and wide, blending with the clouds, disappearing into the vastness.

I barely registered the parachute opening or the gentle tug of being pulled upright as we drifted back toward the ground. All I could think about was that jar and how I’d never known this was what Grandma had planned.

If I’d known, I wouldn’t have put up such a big fight. Or I would have helped the family understand sooner.

We landed softly on the ground, and my instructor helped me out of the harness, but my legs were shaky. I stumbled over to where my grandmother had just touched down.

Her eyes were red, but her face showed she was at peace.

“Gran,” I choked out.

“Darling, why are you crying?” she asked. “This is what Grandpa wanted.”

“So, it’s true?” I asked. “Those were his ashes?”

She nodded, sniffling as she held onto me tightly.

“He always wanted us to jump together. We used to talk about it all the time. But when he got sick…” her voice trailed off for a moment.

“Before he passed, he told me, ‘Do it yourself, and let my ashes fly.’ He wanted to be up there, Mona.”

I didn’t know what to say. My heart felt like it was swelling and breaking all at once. I pulled back and looked into her eyes, trying to wrap my head around what she’d done.

“He wanted to feel the wind on his face,” she continued, her lips quivering. “And now, now he has…”

I hugged her again, tighter this time.

“I had no idea that you were going to do that,” I said.

She let out a soft laugh through her tears.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” she said. “It was between him and me. And I just thought that it was time.”

“I’m proud of you,” I said as we walked back to where the rest of our family was waiting.

That night, when we were all back home, Gran and I sat in her bedroom alone.

“I know I scared you today, Mona,” she said. “But I needed to do this. For him, and for me. I needed to feel at peace.”

“I get it now,” I said. “I really do.”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling with that same mischievous spark I’d always loved.

But there was more.

While Gran and I stopped to get her medication from the pharmacy, I texted the rest of the family and told them to plan a dinner for Gran.

Even now, while we sat in her bedroom, I could see she was exhausted. Not from the jump, but from the emotions of the day.

“Gran, everyone is coming over,” I said. “We wanted to all have dinner together. Nothing special, but just a little dinner for you.”

“For me? Really?” she asked.

“Yes,” I nodded. “To honor what you did today, for Grandpa.”

After that, we went outside to see a beautiful dinner set up in the backyard.

“You deserve this, Mom,” my mother said.

“Sorry we gave you such hell about it all,” my uncle said.

In the end, we spent the evening together, eating roast chicken and veggies, and more dessert than I’d ever seen on one table before.

At that moment, I realized how important it was to acknowledge everything my grandmother wanted. I didn’t know when her time would come.