Stone of Hope

We all have a guardian angel, sent down from above.

To keep us safe from harm and surround us with their love.

~Author Unknown

Despite the warm sunshine, the chill of an early April breeze hung in the air. My daughter Juliana had come to visit but stood across the sidewalk while I sat just outside my front door. She remained more than six feet away, as we conscientiously observed the social-distancing rule ordered during the coronavirus pandemic of 2020.

“I’m really worried about Dad,” Jules said.

My husband still traveled to and from the office daily, while other non-essential businesses were ordered to shut down. His accounting office, ruled as essential, was mostly under a work-from-home code. However, with tax season in full swing, he needed to perform certain tasks securely and confidentially from the main office.

“He’s being careful,” I assured her.

“It’s just so scary.” Jules scraped a bit of mud from the sole of her running shoe. “And now, with the stay-at-home order being stretched from fourteen days to thirty…” She kept her head down.

“It’s going to be difficult.” I kicked a small stone, and it rolled into the mulch. “We can do this,” I said.

“Do you have enough food?” Her expression couldn’t conceal her worry. “I’m going to the grocery store one more time.”

Juliana had been shopping for us over the past two weeks and delivered items to her in-laws, as well. As a graduate student in molecular genetics and developmental biology, she juggled classes that had been recently shifted to webinars and teleconferences because of the pandemic. And even though her research lab had been essentially closed, she worked on writing experimental results and analyzing data, while still finding time to spend with her new husband.

“I don’t know if I can do this for four more weeks.” She sniffled a bit and stopped herself short before touching her nose.

Watching the tears well in her eyes, I fought the urge to rush over and wrap my arms around her.

“We’ll get through,” I assured her again.

That night, my daughter had a dream.

Juliana found herself in my husband’s childhood home. Grandma sat in her favorite spot in the corner of the couch, legs propped up, with Jules nestled up beside her.

“I miss you,” Jules told her grandmother, who had passed away more than ten years ago.

“I miss you, too,” Grandma answered. She looked like she did before she grew ill, with her hair perfectly coiffed, nails painted, and peach-colored lipstick brightening her smile.

“I love you.” Jules leaned her head on Grandma’s shoulder.

“I always love you,” Grandma said.

Jules rose and began looking around the room. “I have to find Dan,” she explained. Jules wanted to introduce her new husband to Grandma. She struggled and searched, but she couldn’t find him.

Feeling desperate, she looked to Grandma for help. “I want you to meet him. You have to meet Dan.”

But Grandma remained still in her spot. “Oh, I know him.” She smiled. “Don’t you worry, dear. I know who Dan is.”

Feeling a sense of relief, Jules sat again, facing Grandma this time. “I have to ask you.” Jules took Grandma’s hand. “I’m just so worried. Will any of us contract COVID-19?”

Grandma placed her free hand on Jules’s arm. “Don’t you worry about that either, dear.”

Juliana woke abruptly and sat straight up, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief.

The next day, she visited me again, taking her place on the far side of the sidewalk. That’s when she told me about the dream. “It felt so real, Mom. I had to convince myself it hadn’t actually happened.”

I could almost see the wonder in her eyes. And I undoubtedly shared her sense of relief.

Jules continued, “I have never conversed back and forth with any of the grandparents in a dream.”

Sadly, all four of her grandparents had died within five difficult years while my children were pre-teens and teens.

“Each of the grandparents has appeared in my dreams,” Jules said, “but they usually don’t speak any words to me. And I have never been able to ask questions of them.”

“Do you feel better?” I asked.

I knew I did.

Even though Juliana said she felt extremely close to all four of her grandparents, she told me she believed this grandmother had appeared in her dream because Jules was most concerned about her dad. It was as though his mom had come to say, “Everything will be okay.”

“Do you want to know what else Grandma said?”

“There’s more?” I asked.

The sun brightened one side of Jules’s face as the wind blew her curls in the other direction. “Grandma said to me, ‘I want you to know that Grandpa is having the time of his life here.’ ”

We shared a laugh saying how typical that was of her gregarious Grandpa.

I eyed the stone I had kicked into the mulch during our melancholy exchange just one day ago.

“When this chaos is over,” I scooped up the rock and brushed it off, “this stone of hope is coming your way.” I reached my hand toward hers.

She pantomimed taking the rock from my hand. “I know exactly where I’m going to put it.” Jules balled up her hand and placed it securely over her heart.

We said our love-yous, and she drove off.

I squeezed the rock tight and tucked it in my pocket, lingering in the spot on the sidewalk that had become our makeshift family gathering place. Closing my eyes, I let the sun warm my face. “Thank you for this stone of hope,” I whispered.

Then, the cool breeze kicked up and I ducked inside.

— Judith Burnett Schneider —