“Absence makes the heart grow fonder … or forgetful.” – Peter Pan
The Selah house carried on as if it were any ordinary day, and not like they just had an epic showdown against soul-sucking shadows. They finished breakfast before heading outside to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. Mom sat on the porch swing to answer an important call while Mel went bug hunting with Louis.
Lyric joined Grandpa Selah in tending his garden in the backyard. Yard work had never been her favorite summer pastime, but she found she’d missed it this summer. More than anything, she’d missed her grandpa. She rolled up her sleeves and settled beside him to pull out the weeds. Grandpa Selah adjusted his straw hat before handing her an extra pair of garden gloves.
“Thank you,” he said, though she wasn’t sure what he was thanking her for. Gardening was rarely an option. No one left his house without getting their hands dirty at least a few times over the summer.
“Sure thing, Grandpa,” she said softly. Her voice was hoarse from hitting notes she never knew she was capable of, from singing like she never had before. That discomfort was the only real evidence of their earlier fight and triumph.
“Pull the weeds from the root,” he said.
She nodded, separating the deeply embedded root from the flower bed soil. The sun felt hot on her bare arms as she worked through the weeds. She welcomed the warmth even as sweat broke across the surface of her skin. The contrast of the sun-soaked outdoors was welcoming to the cold, suffocating grip of those shadows. She’d only endured it for a handful of minutes. Peter and Grandpa Selah had carried that weight for weeks on end. She couldn’t imagine how that must have felt, and she didn’t want to, either.
“Do you think it’ll come back?” she asked. “The shadows?”
She waited for his answer, watching as he twisted, pulled, and cut at a thick root. “Of course they will. It’s not something you can really get rid of.” He paused to give her a look that said she should know that already. “You can’t have sun without a little shade.”
Lyric rolled her eyes. “What we just faced is way different from the shade,” she countered.
Her grandpa sighed. “All right, well, here’s one for you. Where there’s a garden, there will always be weeds. It’s part of life. When there’s weeds, you pull ‘em. When life gives you shade, you put your feet up, and stop worrying about stuff you can’t control. Life isn’t always sunny, and it won’t always be a bed of roses.”
Lyric wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. “It’s always a story or a metaphor with you, but I think I get it.”
Her honesty won her a smile. “Yes, the shadows will be back,” he answered plainly. “But now you know how to deal with them. We all do.”
She didn’t like his answer. That feeling the shadows had magnified in her, all those dark thoughts, all the pain all at once … she never wanted to feel that way again. But at least she wasn’t alone.
“What were you worried about? What did those shadows have on you?”
“Nothing for us to worry about now.”
“How are you always so strong?” she wondered.
“I’m not any stronger than you,” he said, gathering the discarded weeds in a paper bag. “It’s easier to help lift someone else than deal with our own problems. But there comes a time when we have to pull our own weeds and deal with our own shadows.”
“How do you do that? Deal with it?”
Her grandpa’s wise eyes softened when he looked at her. “You ask for help.”
“Know-it-alls like you need help?” she teased.
He laughed. “Especially us know-it-alls, because we don’t know when we need it.”
Lyric frowned. “You’re always there for us, but we weren’t there for you.”
He touched her gloved hand with his own. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
A piercing scream interrupted their quiet moment. Grandpa Selah was a little slow to rise because of the stiffness in his knees, but soon they were both on their feet, racing to the front of the house.
When Lyric made it to the front of the house, she found her dad standing on the porch with luggage at his feet and Louis in his arms. Louis had his arms wrapped around their dad’s neck, his hold so tight their dad could hardly breathe, let alone speak.
Their mother peeled Louis from their dad’s arms. “Daddy can’t breathe, baby.”
But Louis was already hugging him again, this time wrapping his arms around his side and squeezing just as hard. “Sorry, daddy! I’m just glad you’re here. What took you so long? Are you staying?”
Her father’s eyes locked with their mother’s, and he smiled. “I don’t know, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Soon, Louis wasn’t the only one holding on tightly to him. The entire family surrounded him.
“Welcome home, love,” her mother said.