Back To The Future

We lost our home about eight years ago and whenever I happen to drive by it, a part of me thinks that if I were to pull in the driveway and go knock on the front door, I will walk in and find all of us still there, our pictures on the wall and something going on in the kitchen as usual. The memories for that home are frozen in time from eight years ago.

A few months ago, I had another visit to the past only this time I walked back twenty-six years.

In another life I was married with a little girl, went through a tumultuous divorce but remained in contact with my former mother-in-law. I had been part of that family for a decade and my girl was just five when it all came crashing down. Until my girl was senior in high school, I made sure she communicated with her grandma regularly. We sent copies of her art and essays, lots of pictures and each birthday, Mother's Day and Christmas was also recognized. When she was eight, I remarried and my husband adopted her. Grandma was kept in the loop and delighted that my girl would have a father and that I had "found a good man".

Now and then she would tell me what a great job I had done, what a beautiful daughter I had. By the time she was twenty, my girl took over the relationship herself without my prompting. There were frequent trips to the family farm, reunions with aunts and uncles and introductions to cousins. She and grandma grew very close and enjoyed calling and texting. She introduced her now-husband to her other family and they knew more current information than I did. My memories were basically frozen twenty-six years ago.

The last time I spoke with my mother-in-law was over a year ago. My daughter had traveled to visit out of concern for her health. They had come from the doctor and did not have a good report. My daughter had me on the speaker phone and asked for prayer. Grandma was appreciative and sounded vulnerable. My girl had sorrow in her voice. She went back a few weeks later to say goodbye in hospice. At that point, grandma was so ill she could not hear and they filled a notebook "talking" for hours. Shortly after that visit, this sweet lady who gave and loved others so deeply breathed her last earthly breath.

I wanted to go and honor this fine woman and who she had been to me and to my daughter. Not only that, I wanted to go as a support to my girl. We traveled with our husbands for an overnight visit. I had not set foot in that county in 26 years and as we drove around re-visiting the area and showing my husband, I could remember the many times I had been there before. The tourist sites had multiplied and been upgraded, but the beaches and farms were just as they had been for hundreds of years prior. It was a bittersweet trip that seemed to last for more than just the two days we were there. I think that's because of how much work my brain was doing. Sifting and categorizing old memories and feelings, processing what had happened along the way and recognizing again how God had rescued me from long, dark years.

This part of the country is beautiful and yet so much sadness lies behind the facade of relaxing summer vacationland. We had a sunny day and were kissed goodnight by one of the most beautiful sunsets I've seen in ages the night before the Memorial. As I sat with my girl listening to her grandma's praise I grew in respect for the woman who had potty trained her. Story after story unfolded about her love of neighbor and others. From putting loaves of bread in their mailboxes to fostering over 400 children in her life to raising four of her own children. She was beautiful from the inside out. While memories stopped being current 26 years ago, my daughter had picked up the timeline and between us, we had a lot to remember and a lot to miss. I was the shadow of a past connection and my daughter was the energy of the present. I wanted to honor this woman, and her memory of who she had been to me.

It didn't occur to me what this short trek would mean until I sat down now to reflect on it. I am amazed at how much healing God has brought be through. I had not given much thought as to what might happened when I saw former brother or sister's in law. I got to hug my past. Literally. I got to sit in the peace of the forgiveness I had adopted over two decades prior and smile.  Who gets to do that? Only someone who trusts God and recognizes the extra measure of grace he has bestowed on me along the way.