Until Someday (Part 3)

    Today I present Part 3 of this year’s Christmas Story. I did want to mention here that I fully realize that I can never truly present all the feelings and emotions that come as a result of the events in this story. Telling anyone’s story, whether it be a true story or a fictional story, is always so very limited in its capability to communicate the depth of feelings that surround any event. The dynamics of life can just never be wrapped up in a five part story. Writing is made even more challenging for me as I have not experienced what my main character is going through. Instead, I am drawing from the many conversations I’ve had with people who have gone through these things and also from the extensive reading that I have done. But I do hope that this particular story reminds its readers of the hope and joy that can only be found in Jesus. I truly hope you are enjoying it. If you missed the first two parts, you can find them here. Thanks for reading! Here is part 3–

      I sat and stared at the little cape cod house to my left. The faded blue shutters and old white fence gave it a comfortable appearance. The flowers lifting their colorful faces to the sun all along the fence line completed the picture.
     I opened my car door. It was hard to believe it had already been five months since I had said goodbye to mom. My brother had come from Seattle the last few weeks of her life and then had stayed for a bit to help me sort through her things. We had found some interesting letters and photos that had given us more insight into mom’s life and even found a happy photo of me with my paternal grandparents that had been taken before we moved away.
     It was now summer and I had finally taken some time off from work to take that trip north to visit my grandparents. This seemed like a good first step in fulfilling my mom’s dying wish.
     As I got out of my car, I gripped the old photo I had found. They hadn’t seen me since I was a baby. They would never recognize me.
     I hesitantly approached the door. What would they say after all these years? I was fortified by the knowledge that Mom had called them and asked for their forgiveness. They had gladly granted her request and, in fact, told her that they had forgiven her long ago. As they talked with Mom, they had confirmed my hunch that they were born again believers. And they knew I was coming and had seemed excited about my visit.
     So why was I so nervous? I had no reason to think they would not warmly receive me.
     The summer sun beat down on my head as I opened the gate and made my way up to the front porch. The wood on the porch was in need of a good coat of paint but a quick glance around showed that it was a comfortable, oft-used place. To my right were two oversized rocking chairs with red gingham cushions. The little round table between them held a few books and an old Bible. 
     I lifted my hand and knocked. Within just a few moments the door was opened, revealing one of the faces from the photo. The years had been kind to my grandfather and, though he was certainly older than he appeared in the photo, his kind eyes and warm smile were the same.
     “Oh, Tara! It is so good to see you,” my grandfather exclaimed, tears welling up in his eyes. My plump grandmother came rushing from the kitchen. Her white hair was cut short and perfectly framed her pleasant face with its bright blue eyes.
     I gave them both warm hugs in turn and I immediately felt at home. Grandpa got my bags from the car and brought them to a little bedroom on the south side of the house. While it was small and a bit old-fashioned, it had everything in it necessary for comfort. The bed had a fluffy down comforter in hues of green and lavender and a little lamp stood on the small table next to it, along with a vase holding lavender from Grandma’s garden. In the corner was a comfy-looking chair with striped pillows.
     “How do you like it?” asked my Grandma hesitantly.
     “Oh, Betty, dear, I told you this is a mighty fine room. Don’t you believe your dear old husband?” my grandfather teased.
     “Oh, it’s wonderful,” I affirmed with a smile.
     Grandma breathed a big sigh of relief, “I know you young ones are used to all kinds of gadgets and technology and we don’t have too much of that here, but I do hope you will make yourself at home and enjoy your stay. We are so looking forward to getting reacquainted!” She squeezed my hand warmly as she said this and then continued, “Now, we will let you get settled. Come on out to the living room when you are ready.”
     “See you soon, Tara Tomato,” Grandpa said with a wink as he followed after Grandma. The name had rolled off his tongue without him even thinking. I wondered if that was what he had called me as a little girl?

____________________

     I found my grandparents in the living room twenty minutes later and decided to ask them about the name.
     “Grandpa, you called me Tara Tomato just now. Is that what you used to call me?” I asked as I lowered myself on to the cushion at one end of the covered sofa.
     “Why yes, it was actually. And I guess, in my mind, you’ve always been Tara Tomato, even still to this day,”Grandpa gave a little laugh.
     “You must tell her why, Herb,” said my grandma with a smile.
     “Well, as you know, your parents moved away when you were just a little tike. Couldn’t have been two yet,”Grandpa said thoughtfully.
     “Yes, Mom said I was about a year and a half,” I confirmed.
     “Well, that summer before you left, we were having a birthday party in the backyard for someone…” Grandpa looked at Grandma.
     “It was for Richard, I think,” said Grandma.
     “Oh, yes, I believe it was your Uncle Richard’s thirtieth birthday, if I recall correctly. Anyway, you had somehow toddled away without anyone noticing. Your mama was in a bit of a panic as we searched for you. And do you know where we finally found you?”
     I smiled and shook my head.
     Grandpa continued, “we found you in my tomato patch. And were you a sight! You had found a squishy tomato on the ground and you were having a wonderful time making a royal mess. Oh, how we all laughed at you. From that point on, you were Tara Tomato to me!” He laughed heartily as he remembered that moment.
     I wished I could remember that moment. I wished I could remember these dear people who had genuinely loved me and the wonderful warmth and security they must have given to my baby self. I silently mourned what I had lost.
     We spent the next few hours getting reacquainted with each other. They asked lots of questions about my life and also about my brother, Matt. I told them about how my mom and I had come to know the Lord and we rejoiced together in our common bond in Christ.
     I also found out that they had four boys. Robert, Richard, and Randall were my uncles and Raymond, the baby, was my dad. Robert and Richard had married their high school sweethearts, while Randall had met a girl at college. All three were living within twenty minutes of my grandparents.
     I also heard about my cousins, who were a range of ages. Two of the girls were about the same age as me and Grandma was excited for me to meet them.
     “I just can’t wait for you to meet Jayne and Melissa. You will all get along so well, I am just sure of it,” she said with a happy grin.
     I felt a bit overwhelmed but I knew how important it was to my grandparents for me to connect with the rest of the family. And I wanted to, too. But I had grown up without any family and suddenly, there were grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins. It was just so… overwhelming.
     After a dinner of ham, potatoes, and green beans, we found ourselves back in the living room. They were so easy to talk to and conversation easily flowed. Having the Lord in common also opened up the door for many different topics and we had a wonderful time talking about all kinds of things that evening. In fact, it felt like we had talked about every topic except one.
     It was growing late and I didn’t want to go to bed without at least asking.
      “So, I wondered if you could tell me anything about my dad. Mostly I’d like to know where he is,” I said.
      Grandpa looked hesitantly at Grandma and then spoke, “Yes, your mom asked us that, too. When she asked we didn’t know. But just two weeks ago, Ray stopped by completely out of the blue. He didn’t stay long and he didn’t seem to be interested in renewing the relationship but he did want us to know he was okay. He looked pretty good, didn’t he, Betty?” At this my grandmother nodded.
      Grandpa continued, “he told us he had been clean for five years and that he was living with his two dogs in a little cabin about twenty miles from here. We asked if we could visit and he didn’t say no. But he also didn’t seem too excited about it. So we haven’t done anything yet, have we, dear?”
      Grandma smiled sadly as she answered, “No, we haven’t. We were thrilled to hear he is doing well, but we were so disappointed to find out that he didn’t seem interested in being part of the family again. So we aren’t sure what to do at this point.”
      “Grandpa, do you think you could tell me how to find that cabin? I have something I have to tell him for mom. It’s really important.”
      “Well, I guess I could do that,” Grandpa mused, “but I am afraid you may be disappointed.”
      “I’ll have to take that chance,” I said.
     Soon after that, I found myself in my cozy bed with questions crowding my mind. Would I recognize my dad? Had my dad ever loved me? Why hadn’t my dad looked for me? Deep down inside, I realized that I was still that little girl longing for her daddy’s love. How would my dad respond when I finally would see him face to face after all these years? I was scared.