Passages of Hope

Exhausted, Gracie went to her room without dinner. She couldn’t eat if she’d wanted to.

Ada had invited Gracie out, promising her that food would make her feel better. Gracie hadn’t responded because Ada going out to dinner would give her what she really wanted: to be alone. She was so tired. Tired of crying and worrying. But most of all, tired of fighting. Her life was a wreck, and she needed to accept that. It would always be filled with trouble and pain. Pain she wanted to stop but had no way to do so.

She trudged up the stairs to her room, closed the door, and collapsed into bed, too tired to even cry.

Gran had gone to great lengths to make sure Gracie got the house. She had to know that it would put Gracie at odds with Uncle Rand, but she did it anyway. Gran had put all her hope and expectations in Gracie. She shouldn’t have. Why didn’t Gran see that Gracie couldn’t pull this off? It was so obvious. Gracie’s life had been disaster after disaster. She had almost believed that inheriting this house would change the dark trajectory of her life.

She rolled over and groaned. How could she ever live with herself, knowing that Gran’s house was gone from the family?

She thought of Ada, Ms. Lila, and Clarence, the people dearest to her now. They were so supportive. So helpful. Had they all wasted their time on her? Their opinion of her would certainly have to change if she lost the house.

The doorbell ringing interrupted her thoughts. Ada must have an armful of food and couldn’t get the door open.

Gracie dragged herself back down the stairs to the front door. When she opened it, Uncle Rand, not Ada, stood on the steps.

“Not tonight, Uncle Rand,” she said, not caring how sharp her words were. If there was anyone she was not going to have a breakdown in front of, it was Uncle Rand. Because in breaking down, she would prove to him what he’d always believed. She didn’t deserve the house or Gran’s trust.

To her surprise, he didn’t light into her immediately like he normally did. He only gave her a sad look.

Gracie paused. He normally didn’t ask. He’d just barge in like he owned the place. “Yes, but I’m warning you that I am in no mood for—” She let her words drop off. She wasn’t in the mood for anything.

He stepped inside with none of his normal bluster. His demeanor was more like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“It was on a key ring with the spare house key.” He spoke slowly. “Mom accidentally gave it to me. I told her that I was going to bring it back but forgot. At the end, she made me promise that I would give it to you as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry.” He walked over to the table in the seating area of the yarn shop and put the key on it. Without another word, he left.

Gracie couldn’t get her legs to move. Her thoughts swirled, pain heavy in the mix. All those times she asked Uncle Rand about items in Gran’s estate and he had never said a word. Her heart ached. Could she ever forgive him?

Taking slow steps, she went to the table and picked up the key. It was cold but almost weightless in her hand. She closed her fingers around it and went upstairs to her living room. To the box. She lifted it off the stand, carried it to the couch, and set it next to her.

Tears blurred her vision as she put the key in the lock and turned. She heard a soft click, and the lid popped open.

The first thing she saw was a letter in a pink envelope with her name written on it in Gran’s handwriting.

She tried to regulate her breathing as she lifted it out and carefully opened it. When she unfolded it, she saw it was dated a few months before Gran died. She ran her fingers over the paper and began to read.

Gracie Girl,

This is not how I wanted this to go, but it’s clear that God had other plans. I prayed, as I’m sure you did, that this cancer would be healed. I’m not giving up all hope yet, but I am settled that my healing may be in eternity.

I don’t want to leave you.

You have had so many people leave you and have had to struggle through so many things alone. But in these past months, seeing God’s love working through you as you have sacrificed your life to come care for me, I know you are not alone. You have God. And trust me, Gracie Girl, He is more than enough.

I realize that your life is going to get more complicated and painful after I’m gone. But I want you to go forward knowing that I love you and your mother loved you. And my love is the love I received from my mother and her mother and all the mothers in our family, past and present. That is why the house had to come to you. To continue the unbroken line of loving mothers.

If your mother had lived, my beloved and only daughter, she would have inherited the house. And she would have given it to you, and you would have given it to your daughter. That’s the way the house gets passed down, from mother to daughter. I am not your mother, but I stand in her place with pride.

You are loved with a love that has traveled down through history and arrived at your heart.

Live in that love, my sweet angel.
Gran

Gracie dropped the letter, sobs wracking her body. She would have given anything to hold Gran again, but this was the next best thing. Gran’s words and God’s love, her mother’s love, all wrapping around her like a warm blanket. Securing her and soothing her.

And not just their love. Ms. Lila’s and Ada’s love. Clarence’s love. The love of knitting. The love of watching the girls develop their stitching skills. The love in the history of this house. She was surrounded.

And she now knew that no matter how bad things were, she could always hope in love.