Opa the Opossum

*My 95-year-old grandma often tells me: “You better keep writing – your writing is just lovely and you have to keep your mind sharp!” Over the last year since my grandfather passed, I write her short stories every so often to amuse and connect with her.

This is the life I imagine for that an endearing Opossum that frequented her back yard. I hope it illustrates the significance of having a safe haven with another, especially early in life.

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At grandma’s and grandpa’s house, nestled at the edge of a quiet little neighborhood, Opa the opossum was a regular visitor. The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, as grandpa set about his evening routine. He was a man of few words, preferring the company of nature to that of other humans. His heart, however, was as expansive as the land he tended. Cookies and treats awaited the guests who came to visit his back patio.

Grandpa had a soft spot for animals. He loved to watch them scurry about, each one with their own quirks and personalities. Raccoons would rustle through the garbage cans, a family of five with bright eyes and bushy tails, while a white cat from down the street would casually saunter over, her mysterious demeanor suggesting she had somewhere more important to be. But among these creatures, Opa stood out.

Opa was an unassuming little opossum with a penchant for adventure. She had neither family nor friends among her kind, but she learned to navigate the world on her own. Unlike the raccoons who were busy with their bustling family life, Opa was solitary. She had a knack for finding her place in the world, and that place was right at grandma’s and grandpa’s house, where the treats were plentiful.

One day, while Opa rummaged through the leftovers that grandpa had set out, she caught sight of a young boy named Christopher playing in the fenced backyard next door. He was six years old with tousled brown hair and a playful spirit that seemed dimmed by the shadows of his home. Christopher’s parents often fought, their voices rising above the sound of the television, and they frequently tossed him into the backyard when they were ready to let loose. 

It was a lonely existence for a child who craved attention and affection. Opa felt an inexplicable connection to the boy, sensing his loneliness from afar. She never had a family of her own, and she understood what it meant to be alone. It tugged at her heart, and she decided that she would do something about it.

Opa filled her tiny mouth with a few of grandpa’s cookies – chocolate chip, shortbread, and an Oreo – and scurried over to the fence that separated her world from Christopher’s. She peeked through the slats, her little nose twitching with curiosity. Christopher laid on the grass, staring up at the sky, lost in thought.

“Hey!” she squeaked softly, and though her voice was barely audible, Christopher turned his head, his eyes widening in surprise.

At first, he thought he was imagining things. A little opossum, right there at the fence! He rubbed his eyes and looked again, and to his delight, Opa was still there, wiggling her nose and looking at him expectantly. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Every evening, Opa would bring treats to Christopher, sharing bites of cookies that tasted all the sweeter when they were enjoyed together. Opa loved shortbread, with its buttery richness, while Christopher savored the chocolatey goodness of Oreos. They would sit together by the fence, Christopher sharing tales of his day at school, his adventures on the playground, and the dreams he had at night. Opa would listen intently, her beady eyes sparkling with understanding.

As the summer months rolled on, their bond deepened. Opa would curl up beside Christopher, resting her head on his lap as she listened to him talk. She could sense the radiance of his laughter, the joy he felt when he shared a particularly funny story, and the warmth that spread through him when he realized he had a friend.

But as the days began to shorten and the air turned crisp, the inevitable change of seasons loomed. Fall arrived, painting the leaves in vibrant shades of maroon and gold. Christopher noticed that Opa had become more cautious, her visits less frequent. He worried that she might be scared away by the cold winter ahead.

One evening, when the first frost coated the grass, Christopher watched as Opa hesitated at the fence. He could see her little feet shuffling in the grass, and he felt a pang of concern.“Opa!” he called out, his voice filled with urgency. “I’ll go open my window and you can come inside!”

Opa blinked, her instincts kicking in. She was a wild creature, after all, and the idea of entering a human home was both thrilling and terrifying. But as she looked into Christopher’s hopeful eyes, she felt a wave of comfort wash over her. With a determined hop, she scurried through the opening Christopher had created for her.

The room was filled with soft blankets and plush toys. It was a world unlike her own, and yet it felt strangely inviting. “See?” Christopher grinned, his eyes shining with delight. “You can stay with me!”

Opa’s heart swelled at the thought. She made herself comfortable on the soft rug, curling into a cozy ball as Christopher shared stories of magic and adventure. He introduced her to his favorite stuffed animals, and they played together until the moon hung high in the sky.

As winter settled in, Opa became a regular guest in Christopher’s room. 

Each night, after his parents had retreated into their own world, Opa would slip through the open window and join him. They would share cookies and stories, laughter and dreams, creating a world that was just theirs.

Christopher’s parents, wrapped up in their own troubles, never noticed Opa’s presence.They were oblivious to the joy that filled their son’s heart, the way his laughter echoed through the hall, or the light that returned to his eyes.

While Christopher’s life at home was troubled, Opa always seemed to be there when he needed her. Little did the grandpa over the fence know, he was fueling a deep bond that transcended species with the power to stop time and dissolve pain.

Grandpa was getting older, slowly faltering and waning in his mid 90’s, until a swift occasion brought him to his final days in the hospital. Within a few days, the supply of cookies and leftovers was all but gone – only cheerios remained – so stale that even the raccoons put up their nose. 

Opa knew that her food supply was running thin, and could not depend on Christopher for all her basic needs. He was growing up, he had school, and she had to move on where she could establish a new life. 

January rolled in as the air grew colder and Christopher prepared to head back to school after a joyous winter break. That last morning, the school bus honked in the distance, their last moment timelessly slipping away. Christopher crouched beside the oak tree, cradling Opa in his palm. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” he murmured, struggling against the lump in his throat.

Opa gazed up at him, her tiny form glowing softly. “Me too.” The grief felt all the more visceral in the quietude as there was nothing more to say.

“Goodbye, Opa,” his heart heavy with longing.

“Goodbye, Christopher. Remember me whenever you feel lost,” Opa gently replied. She knew her simple memory would be enough to elicit all the courage and love Christopher might need.

As he turned to board the bus, he felt a soft breeze brush against his cheek, like a tender farewell, and he smiled. As he rode off to school, the memories they shared flickered in his mind like stars against a dark sky, illuminating the path ahead.

~ Gunnar G Malensek
Written October, 2024