The next morning, Josie started work on Gracie’s angel dress. Thankfully, the choir director’s wife had done the shopping and provided the pattern, fabric and thread, so that each child would be dressed the same.
By midafternoon, Josie stopped to help Gramps decorate their Christmas tree. While he strung the lights, she climbed into the attic to retrieve the ornaments. Flipping on the light, she gazed about the dreary space in surprise. Dust motes filtered through the threads of sunlight that peeked through the grimy window. Cobwebs and filth covered every surface. The cold caused her to shiver. As she crouched down and perused the stacks of boxes, she realized this was a big fire hazard. Forget a lighted match. All they needed was spontaneous combustion to burn down Gramps’s house. She made a mental note to clean out this storage room before she returned to Las Vegas.
She lifted the lid to an old wooden trunk. A cloud of dust flew upward toward her face. She coughed and sneezed, waving a hand to clear the air. Peering inside, she saw a stack of old letters tied with a faded blue satin ribbon. Curiosity got the better of her and she lifted them out, noticing the dates, and that they’d been written by her parents before they’d married.
Love letters from the past.
Opening several envelopes sequentially, she scanned the yellowed pages. Loving words flowed from one sheet to the next. Her mother’s words, expressing hope and joy for her life with Josie’s father. Josie devoured every sentence like dry sand soaking up rain.
Before she knew it, she’d read seven letters. Her mom had written two letters for every one written by Dad. Separated when he’d gone off to college, she’d missed him and longed for the day when they could be together always. Likewise, Dad could barely concentrate on his school studies, he’d missed his sweetheart so much.
Sitting there in the dust and cobwebs, Josie found tears flowing down her cheeks. For the first time in her life, she realized how young her mom had been when she’d been divorced with a young child to raise. Too young. And Josie didn’t understand why. All she remembered were the noisy fights filled with hateful words. And then the divorce and Mom’s constant anger afterward.
Josie never saw her father again. When Gramps telephoned a year later to say that Dad had died in a car crash, Mom had responded stoically. Then she’d hung up the phone, walked to her bedroom, closed the door and sobbed uncontrollably. Josie had remained outside in the hallway, curled against the wall, her face buried in her hands. Longing to go to her mother. To be comforted. To know everything was going to be okay. But it wasn’t. And four short years later, Mom had died of a heart attack.
They’d all been cheated out of a happy family life together. If Mom and Dad had stayed together, things would have been different.
Never had Josie missed her father more than right now. If he’d lived and stayed with her mother, Josie’s childhood would have been more carefree. Once Dad graduated from medical school, they would have had more money to pay the bills. Mom could have stayed at home more. Josie might even have some siblings to love. They would have been happy.
But all the would have’s and could have’s wouldn’t help them now.
“Parents shouldn’t outlive their kids, and kids shouldn’t have to grow up without their parents,” she murmured beneath her breath.
She wondered if her folks had had any inkling that they would both die young. What might they have done differently if they had known? What words might they have said to each other?
“Hey, sweetheart! You coming down?” Gramps called from the bottom of the stairs.
Josie swiped at her damp eyes. “Yes, I’ll be right there.”
In a flurry, she found the box of ornaments and placed the letters on top as she climbed down the ladder to the second floor. Depositing the letters in her room to finish reading later, she scurried downstairs with the box of colored bulbs.
The tree stood in one corner of the living room, the lights aglow. Gramps had turned on an old cassette of Christmas carols. “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” played in the background and Gramps sang along in his rich, bass voice. The house smelled of pine needles and the cinnamon rolls she’d popped into the oven just before she’d climbed into the attic.
“I got the rolls out,” Gramps said.
“Oh, I forgot. Thanks, Gramps.” She’d been rather distracted.
He inspected the tree, then turned to get her opinion. “It’s pretty, huh?”
“Beautiful.” A poignant feeling of love overwhelmed her and she hugged him, determined not to live her life with regrets. To cherish the people in her life now, while she had the time.
“I love you, muffin.”
“I love you, Gramps.”
As they stood there gazing at the lights, Josie realized she’d hardly thought about her job at the pharmacy over the past few days. Tomorrow, she’d call and check in with them.
And then a thought struck Josie. If she died, what would happen to Gramps? Who would take care of him as he got older?
The Lord. That’s what Grandma would say. He was there for all His children. All Josie had to do was trust in Him. But Josie hadn’t thought about God in years and didn’t know how to start trusting in Him now.
“It’s the prettiest tree I’ve ever seen. I’m so glad I’m here,” she said.
And she meant it. Every word.
“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?” Gramps drew away, his gaze focused on her face. No doubt her eyes were red from crying.
She hugged him tightly, breathing in his spicy cologne, cherishing his presence like never before. “I’m just great. Thanks for letting me be here with you.”
“Of course. This is your home. You’re welcome anytime, muffin.”
She laughed, a pang of nostalgia swamping her with memories. Gramps teaching her to fish. Grandma teaching her about the atonement of Jesus Christ and how to pray. Her grandparents had been her dearest friends. Yet she’d turned her back on God. He’d let her down, so she’d decided to ignore Him. But now, Josie wondered if she was wrong. Maybe, just maybe, Clint was right and God was waiting for her to call on Him again. Maybe God hadn’t abandoned her, after all. Hmm. It was something to think about.
That night, Josie and Gramps sat on the couch and laughed as they sang songs and ate chunks of homemade peanut brittle. When she finally went to bed, Josie spent another hour pouring over her parents’ letters. Laughing when they teased each other about some silly joke they’d shared. Crying when they talked of their future plans and how much they loved each other.
Poor, lonely Mom. How she must have regretted the divorce after Dad had died.
Waves of compassion crashed over Josie. She no longer saw her mother as an angry, bitter woman. but rather as a human being with failings and regrets of her own. And for the first time since Dad had died, Josie thought perhaps she may have unfairly judged her mom.