Until Someday (Part 5)

Today I present the ending of this year’s story. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Merry Christmas! (You can find the rest of the story here at this link.)

  I waited in my car at the airport cell lot, Christmas music playing merrily in the background. Matt’s plane was due to arrive any minute and then, together, we’d drive the remainder of the way to Grandpa and Grandma’s house in Frosty Falls. I was only there for about ten minutes when my brother texted that his plane had arrived.
     Soon, I was parked in front of the Arrivals door of the small airport, anxiously looking for Matt, who I had not seen since our time together with Mom. I got out of the car as soon as I saw his tall, lanky frame walk through the door.
     “Oh, I am so glad you came,” I said as I hugged him.
     “Me, too!” He said with a smile.
     We were soon on the road and spent the next two hours catching up on life. He told me about his new girlfriend who sounded perfect for him. Seattle seemed to suit him well and I rather guessed he’d stay there permanently.
     The two hours passed quickly and soon we were pulling alongside the little house on Fir Street. The flowers from summer had all faded away and now the white fence held a number of wreaths all along its length, their twinkling white lights lighting up the dreary day.
     Grandma must’ve been watching for us out the window because as soon as I put the car in park, she was out the door and opening the gate, running towards us with open arms. Grandpa wasn’t far behind.
     “Oh my goodness!” Grandma cried, “this can’t be Matthew!”
     They had never met my brother, as he had been born in Florida, and they were both so thrilled. After giving us both warm hugs, they helped us take our luggage into the house.
     “I am so sorry, Matt, but I only have one guest room. I hope you don’t mind that I set up a little cot for you in Grandpa’s study,” she told him to follow her, and I tagged along. She went back the hallway and stopped at the tiny room that held a small desk and an easy chair with a small hassock in front of it. Along one wall, in front of a bookcase, stood a comfortable looking cot.
     “Oh, this will work just fine,” said my brother agreeably. I knew his feet would stick off the end of that cot and I was proud of my little brother for his good attitude.
     As my brother got settled, I went to the guest room that had served as my room last summer. It felt so perfect being there and I settled in with a contented sigh.

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     On the Sunday before Christmas we went to church with Grandpa and Grandma and then we went to Uncle Randy’s for the family Christmas. It was a wonderful day with family. Matt loved meeting all of his aunts, uncles, and cousins and especially hit it off with his cousin, Luke, who was a few years older than him and also an engineer.
     That evening, Matt and I talked with Grandpa and Grandma about how much we had missed growing up. There was real sadness in this realization.
     Grandpa, also feeling regretful at his part in the broken relationship, mourned the past, “your mom didn’t want anything to do with your daddy’s family and so we stopped trying. But I can see now that we should have tried harder,” he turned to Grandma at this last phrase with a tear in his eye but then he reminded us all to be thankful, “Well, we are all here together now and that’s what matters! I hope we can spend many happy Christmases together in the future.”
     We all agreed and headed to bed.
     Christmas Eve dawned bright and sunny. Grandpa said he was going to take us to see Frosty Falls, which was in its winter glory. Grandma was going to stay home and cook, as she had in mind to make my brother and me a wonderful Christmas Eve dinner. Some of the family would stop by on Christmas Day but tonight it would just be the four of us.
     Frosty Falls did not disappoint. It was amazing in all of its frozen splendor, as the sun turned the icicles into sparkly gems. Grandpa gave us some of its history and shared a memory or two from his own childhood about the falls. And then he started talking about his boys.
     “We’d come here every year as a family to look at the falls and then go for hot cocoa to Glenda’s Diner in town,” he said softy as he remembered and then he looked up with a twinkle in his eye, “Why don’t we go to Glenda’s for hot cocoa now? I haven’t done that for years!”
     Soon we found ourselves seated in a little old-fashioned booth of the homey diner. Glenda’s daughter, a plump and smiling middle-aged woman, greeted us. Soon there were mugs of steaming hot cocoa and pieces of homemade pie on the Formica tabletop in front of us.
     As we sipped on the hot chocolate and enjoyed the pie, Grandpa recalled some of the antics of my dad and his brothers in their growing up years.
     My brother and I laughed a lot as we listened. Suddenly, my Grandpa grew quiet.
     “I haven’t seen your dad since we went to visit him last summer, Tara,” he said seriously, “I thought for sure he’d come around at some point, but we are still waiting and we are still praying.”
     “Me, too, Grandpa. Me, too,” I said sadly.
     Matt, who could hardly even remember Dad, just quietly listened to us. Most of his life had been lived without a dad and he was absolutely loving this time with Grandpa. I suspected that Grandpa was filling a need in Matt’s heart that he hadn’t even realized he had.
     “Well, let’s go see how your grandma is making out,” said Grandpa as he got up to pay the bill.
     As it turns out, Grandma was having a bit of trouble, “I cannot get this oven to turn on, all of a sudden. It was working perfectly fine this morning,” she bemoaned. The warm delicious-looking pies sitting on the counter confirmed this truth. A big beef roast sat in its roasting pan on top of the stove, prepared for its turn in the oven.
     For the next forty-five minutes, Grandpa and Matt worked together to fix the oven. As I watched the two of them, I could see how great it was for Matt to be here. I was so glad he had agreed to come.
     They were successful and around 6:45pm, just a little later than the original plan, we sat down to eat a feast of roast beef, mashed potatoes, baked corn, green bean casserole, and stuffing. We filled our plates and enjoyed a wonderful time of fellowship together, laughing and talking like we had known each other our whole lives.
     We were just finishing up dinner when we heard a small sound coming from the front of the house.
     “Was that the door?” My grandpa asked. We all grew quiet and waited.
     Soon we heard it again. It sounded like a soft knock at the door. Grandpa got out of his chair and went to get the door.
     He came back to the kitchen and who should be following him but Dad!
     “Look what the cat dragged in!” Grandpa joked awkwardly and happily.
     Dad gave a hesitant smile and stood uncomfortably by the kitchen entrance.
     “Raymond!” my grandma cried, “come in, come in! Let me fix you a plate of food!” She bustled around getting all of dad’s favorites and putting them on a plate. Meanwhile, Grandpa grabbed an extra chair and set it right between my brother and me.
     My brother gave me a rather distressed look as he slid his chair over to make room.
     “Hi, Dad,” I said evenly, trying to be friendly despite my uneasiness.
     “Hi kids,” said my dad nervously.
     I’d like to say that was the best Christmas Eve ever. Instead, it was actually kind of strange and awkward.
     But it was the first step that my dad took to heal his relationship with his family. And that was enough.

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     After spending a couple of awkward hours with us that Christmas Eve, Dad went back to his cabin. But we did see him a few more times over the course of our week and it grew less awkward to be together. And, while he was still a bit antagonistic towards any mention of God, it did seem as if his heart was softening just a bit.
     A week later, my brother flew back to Seattle and I drove back to Florida. But, this time, I was going back to pack up my things. My grandparents had invited me to live with them and I had decided to accept their offer. I had nothing keeping me in Florida and I longed to spend time with my grandparents and the rest of the family I was just getting to know.
     And so it was with a merry heart that I drove back to Florida, said good-bye to my friends, and packed up that little cabin by the lake. It held many precious memories of Mom and my growing up years but it was time for me to move on.
     And so just three weeks later, I found myself pulling up alongside that little house with the white fence for the third time that had become home to me. I didn’t know if I’d ever really get to know my dad or if he’d ever come to know the Lord. These were still big question marks. But what I did know was that I was unconditionally loved by my grandparents and, for now, that was enough. God had given me a family when I needed it most.