Just put your lips together and blow.
I didn’t know my grandmother.
But one afternoon I stood on the steps whistling for the dogs and the hair on my mother’s body stood up.
Whistling into the afternoon.
Whistling for the dogs.
Whistling just like my grandmother.
Whistling like a dead woman I’d never met.
“It’s just you.”
“Yeah it’s just me.”
“My mother used to whistle just like that.”
Every time I whistle for the dogs my mother’s blood runs cold.
The Secret Life of Pandas 
my grandmother used to say to me, “a whistling girl and a crowing hen always come to a bad end.” somehow it matters who is whistling.
I feel like there’s a reason for the blood running cold.
Oh wow… Perhaps your grandmother watches over you & comes through in your whistle. I wish it made your mother smile. peace & smiles