The White House 90 AV

Miss Judith. That's what they call me now that I'm in the sunset of my years. Not my married name or even my famous name of Grimes. No, these days, I'm Miss Judith. I think it's because I've become a maternal figure to our fledgling country and everyone feels like I'm part of their family.

And that's fine by me. As the social butterfly of my family, I've always loved being surrounded by people. Now, at the tender age of 89, well, I don't have a whole lot of my real family left. So if strangers want to embrace me and have me tell my stories to them, I won't turn them down.

So... here I sit, waiting for my turn at the podium out there on the White House lawn near a huge garden filled with roses. I'm an old hand at these things by now. This is my fifth presidential inauguration and I know my part well.

I'm one of the oldest people left in the world, having been born during the darkest of days after The Turn. My parents had been the earliest leaders of the New World and, as such, well I'm the closest thing to Royalty this country has.

Joke's on them though. I've never acted like royalty a day in my life. My mama did all she could to make me sit still long enough to learn to read and count and write. Okay, I may have learned more than that over time but it wasn't nearly as fun as going on runs, putting down walkers and, well, just plain old fighting. My Daddy called me Legend (as in legend in the making) and my Mama called me Love.

I think I ended up somewhere in between those two big words. I like to think I did anyway. I adored my parents and I adored my big brother and all I ever wanted to do in my life was make them proud. I was so lucky to grow up with my biggest heroes and to be raised by them. To learn from their strengths and, even more importantly, their mistakes.

I was a Child of the Apocalypse, born during the Dawn of the darkest of times. My birth mother sacrificed herself so I could live and my brother had to put her down after. How does one make a life that's worth all of that? How does one do enough good, make enough of a difference to make up for the sacrifices others made so I could live?

I did my best. And I did damned well if I say so myself. If my Mama and Daddy were here, they'd spend the next hour bragging about my accomplishments. My loving marriage to one of the few men in the world worthy of Judith Grimes (my Daddy's words, not mine). My beautiful, strong children and grandchildren to carry on the Grimes line and keep this world going (my Mama always doted on my little ones and was happiest with them bouncing on her knee). The history books I wrote in order to finish Mama's body of work so that generations to come would always know how humankind went wrong and turned the world against us for a time.

They would brag about my thirty year career in government but I would stop them there because, well, no one from those darker days could take a seat on the sidelines as the sidelines weren't there. We all had to do our part to rebuild this country and, over time, help our fellow men and women doing the same across the oceans.

As I sit here in the quiet of this oval shaped room, a room that has stood the test of time and the end of the world, I feel the ache of old age creep in through my bones and I appreciate the comfort of the blue velvet cushions on the settee I sit upon.

I'm tired. Oh, I've got a few years in me yet, I know. I still practice firing the weapon I keep holstered at my hip. I still pull back a bow string now and again and every morning I practice my positions with the katana my parents gifted me when I was twenty five. But I'm slow and came to the realization long ago that my fighting days are behind me.

Not that there is much fighting to be had anymore.

My good friend Hershel and I were two of the first children tested, four years into the Turn, when there was medical research established to study the Virus. We were found to be virus free which meant that the disease that ended our world couldn't be passed onto the next generation and it would die out with those who were alive at The Turn.

There was a lot of celebrating that day.

And as the winters got colder again with climate change a thing of the past, the walkers froze by the millions and were methodically destroyed, incinerated and just wiped out. Eventually, with depleted food sources, increased lethargy and simple biochemistry, the walkers in the warmer climates simply rotted away.

By the year 50 AV, the last walker was sighted and put down by a feisty monk in Tibet. We celebrated that day as well.

So as our world, with a fraction of the population it had decades earlier, learned to walk on its toddler feet, learned to put sustainable cars back on the road, rebuild hospitals, colleges, and to network computers, it also made a promise to itself.

Never forget. Never forget what happened to the people who took our world for granted, who didn't value each day of life they were given. Never forget how an abused world got a restart when most of its inhabitants perished during The Turn and the chaotic days that followed.

My father remembered. My mother remembered. My brother remembered.

And, I remember. I am a Child of the Apocalypse and I have treasured every single day that I've been given and every single gift my family gave me to make me who I am.

My father, Rick Grimes, gave me resilience, fearlessness, strength, unwavering loyalty and a steady hand to hold a heavy gun.

My mother, Michonne Sauveterre Grimes, gave me the capacity to set no limits, to open my heart to strangers and to believe we could coax the world back into our keeping with gratitude not force.

My brother, Carl Grimes, gave me my first best friend and my first real hero, as he showed me endless patience, unconditional love and taught me that everything he could do, well, I might just be able to do better.

I love that I get to tell their stories everywhere I go. People always ask me about my family, how they lived, how they loved and what were the truths versus the myths.

I just smile and tilt my head in response. "Myths? When it comes to the Grimes family, there are no myths. Those stories are all true my friends, all very true."

I stand up now and make my way to the garden, the bright sun beating down on my face. As I approach the podium, the applause and cheers fade away as I look to the blue sky and recall one of my earliest memories, a sunny day long ago where I held a bouquet of bright purple balloons with my brother and let them go so that the brother of my heart would know he was loved.

I smile, brush a tear from my eye and feel the love of my family fill my heart on this special day.

And I speak:

'Let us be forever grateful, forever mindful, forever righteous. Let us take care of each other, the grass we stand on, the air we breathe, the oceans we will cross, the mountains we will climb.'

Those were the words my parents taught me before I could read and the words I will say until there are no more words to be spoken.

Let me tell you a story from the earliest days of our New History. The days before I knew how to run, before I knew to be afraid.

It's the story of two warriors who sought strength with each other, an alliance. They were wary, cautious because the world had made that way.

Do not forget them, my friends. They were the flawed. The human. The brave. They were the ones who rose up out of the rubble of the new world to vanquish the dead and to put down the evil that flourished. They fought and sacrificed so that we may not just survive but live.

And as I tell my favorite story, the love story of my parents, my fingers tap the holster holding my father's Colt Python, its heavy weight a reminder of the impact he and Michonne and Carl left on me.

Everything we do in life, today and the rest of our days, is for the very thing that makes us the most human.

Love.

A/N: The real world is a daunting place these days and I've struggled with what it means to be a citizen of my country and what duty I have to try to spread kindness and good will as a way to combat the hate and ignorance that seems to be more and more prevalent. Writing this story as well as all the others have been very cathartic for me because I get to control how people treat each other and speak to each other in them. I can control who thrives and who loses. I can control who loves and who just fades away. I hope to use some of the energy I put in to my writing for the greater good in a real world who could use more positive to drown out the bad.

As always, thank you for sharing your time with me and thank you for your continued support!