Cracks in the Sidewalk(102)

“You children have made me so happy,” Claire said. “All those years I was without you, I kept praying and asking God to bring you back.”

David smacked his napkin down atop the food on his plate. “Well, instead of all that praying,” he said sarcastically, “why didn’t you try sending a postcard?”

Kimberly smacked her hand against her forehead. “I knew he’d do it!” she grumbled. “He just couldn’t keep his mouth—”

“A postcard?” Claire cut in. “I sent more than a postcard! I sent letters, birthday cards, Christmas cards! Every last one of them came back marked return to sender!”

“So you say,” David countered.

“I can prove it!” Claire stood so quickly her chair toppled backward.

“Don’t get upset, Grandma,” Christian said, taking hold of her arm.

“Yeah.” Kimberly shot an angry glare across the table. “Dave is just being Dave!”

“But it’s true,” Claire protested. “All those years, the cards, the gifts, I’ve saved them all. There’s a box for each one of you.” Claire went down the hall, Christian trailing behind her.

The three cartons sat on the top shelf of the closet in what had once been Charlie’s study along with Kimberly’s Cabbage Patch Doll. The time had finally come to take the doll from the shelf.





The Lost Years


Claire shuffled through the cartons, then handed each of her three grandchildren an envelope postmarked 1986.

“We sent these cards the year your mother died.” A scrap of emotion got caught in Claire’s throat. She paused for a moment and then continued. “Elizabeth was so sick that year, I’d be afraid to leave her long enough to go to the store. But taking care of your mom didn’t mean we’d forgotten you. Your grandpa went to the drug store and bought those cards while I stayed with Elizabeth. Go ahead, open them.”

One by one, they began to slit open the envelopes. David, whose birthday occurred in April, opened his first and as he slid the card from the yellowed envelope a ten-dollar bill fluttered into his lap.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s what we could do for your birthday. I wasn’t able to shop for a gift that year, so we decided to send money and let you get whatever you wanted.” Claire gave a good-natured chuckle. “Of course, back then ten dollars was ten dollars.”

“This is from you and Grandpa,” David said, his voice registering a note of surprise. He began to read aloud. “Dearest David, we miss you so very much. There is not a day that goes by when we don’t think of you and wonder if you are well and happy. This is a very difficult year and we can’t be with you on your birthday, but we are certainly thinking of you and wishing you a wonderful day. Lots and lots of love, Grandma and Grandpa. P.S. When the Lord allows us to be together again I’m going to bake a big chocolate cake for your birthday! Grandma.” When he stopped reading and looked up, a tear glistened in his eye.

“Dad never told us…”

Kimberly, with a May birthday, opened her card next. It also held a ten-dollar bill. She read aloud. “Dearest Kimberly, we’re wishing you a birthday fit for a princess, because to us you truly are one. You are as sweet and beautiful as your mother. We miss you so very much, sweetheart, and wish we could be with you. Perhaps next year. Please be a good girl, and never forget how very much we both love you. Grandma and Grandpa. Hey,” she said jokingly, “I didn’t get a chocolate cake offer!”

Everyone laughed, their soft and gentle laughter woven with feelings of both tenderness and regret.

Christian, born in the same month his mother died, opened his envelope next. Inside there was another ten-dollar bill along with a letter. He read the card first. It was simply a wish for a wonderful birthday and much happiness. Then he unfolded the letter.

“Dearest Christian. We are thankful that you are far too young to read these words for they are truly the saddest we’ve ever written. Your dear sweet mother passed away just days ago, and although our hearts are too heavy to be thinking of celebrations, we want you to know that your birth was truly a blessing, not only to us, but to your mother. It is heartbreaking to realize that you will never know the joy and goodness of her, for she loved you dearly.

“Your mother did not have an abundance of time to spend with you, but she treasured every moment she did have. Please know, Christian, that although your mother has gone to be with our blessed Lord, you are loved. For we love you, your brother, and your sister, just as we loved your mother. Be well, sweet child, and we shall pray that better days are to come.”

Christian’s voice cracked with emotion as he finished. He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose.

~

Claire handed her grandchildren and cards from 1987, and each took their turn reading aloud. The cards all bore similar messages—we love you, we miss you, please write, please call, let us know where you are, how to get in touch with you. After 1987, they went through 1988, then 1989.

When David opened the envelope sent in 1990, a twenty-dollar bill dropped out.

“Inflation,” Claire said, and they laughed.

David removed his glasses and began pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry, Grandma,” he said, pushing back the tears. “I’ve spent all these years being angry with you and Grandpa, because I thought after Mom died you wanted us out of your life.”