far back that we can hardly see her. It is evident she wants nothing to do with this. As each one appears, the shouts of welcome surprise and please all three. They each hold stuffed animals, and Dad wraps his arms around each one with a great big papa bear hug then all three at once, all with his newest son hanging on his back and arms around his neck. Their faces go from wonder to surprise to excitement to laughter to me. I drink in the beauty of my grandchildren who are the subjects of endless prayers. God, they are balm for my crying eyes. Each one breaks away and runs to me, and I kneel down to enfold each child after all this time, holding them, not willing to let go. That is when I feel the healing begins. Wet kisses for Grammy and I miss you so much are tucked away in my heart to this day.
Jackie and little JR are bald. Laurene’s hair is only a half-inch long. She told me later that they had lice, so their mother shaved their heads, and when she got to Laurene, Grandpa said no. He said you can’t send a little girl to school with a bald head. So she clipped it short and told this little one to comb the lice out herself. Their clothes are a little shabby, and Laurene told me later that their mother would take them to churches and sent them in to ask for clothes.
When we get to my house, Floyd and his new expanded family decide to take the agent’s advice and stay for a few days to bond with Laurene, JR, and Jackie. He told me later that one of the agents took him aside and said that a bonding period of at least a week was necessary after what his kids had been through. I know Opal doesn’t like me at all, so I am surprised that she agrees to stay. The kids are so happy, and not once do they even mention their mother. I take them shopping for clothes and shoes and make sure the house is stocked with all their favorite foods. Laurene takes great joy in throwing all their old belongings in the trash. She insists on taking them all the way out to the street so they will not find their way back. When I wake up in the morning, all three little ones are on my bedroom floor circled around my bed.
The days flew by, and Opal suddenly announced they were leaving. Their bags were packed, and I noticed Laurene had become very quiet and stayed right next to me at all times. Soon Dad said it was time to get into the car. JR and Jackie kissed and hugged me and waved good-bye while Laurene stayed by me. She began rolling the hem of her shirt up then down again. She said she didn’t want to go with them and couldn’t she stay with me? Her dad told her again to get in the car. She looked up at me with those big green eyes that melted my heart. Tears rolled down her cheeks as I tried to explain to her that Dad needed a chance to make a family and that everything would work out fine. She could come visit me as much as she wanted to, and I’m just a phone call away.
With all the emotion a little seven-year-old could muster, she said, “Grammy, I’ve been trying my whole life to get to you.”
We held each other close. I wanted so much to make this better but once again, I had no say so. She knew my number by heart, and I told her to call me every day. We clung to each other for as long as we could.
Opal was becoming agitated and that transferred to Floyd.
He used a much sterner voice on Laurene and pointed out the door, “Get in the car.”
God help me, I witnessed a little seven-year-old’s heart breaking. I would never forget that day. I would never forget seeing her as her little mouth formed a circle and only “Ooooooooooo” came out of her mouth as she cried soulful tears. It seemed that she thought all along that she would live with me. She put her head down and obeyed her father. I tried to be strong for Laurene, but when I closed the door, I cried as hard as she did. Didn’t Floyd know she was my baby? It felt as if my heart had been wrenched from my chest. Floyd had told me when he and my daughter had split that their family might still be together if it wasn’t for me interfering. I saw it as rescuing. I took that statement to heart and promised myself to back away and let Floyd take over. And now that Andrea and her abusive ways were out of the picture, maybe they could finally be a family.
The Little Pickup
It was a beautiful day in Roseville—clear skies just cooling a little and getting ready for autumn, leaves beginning to turn.
Laurene and I were together so it must have been one of the times when she came to stay with me for the weekend. We truly loved our time together; we had such a connection. We left for a trip to the shopping center, and as we got into my little Chevy pickup, I noticed she seemed unusually quiet and preoccupied. She twisted the hem of her shirt and rolled it up and then down as she had a habit of doing. Sitting in the passenger seat, she looked so small. She only was seven years old.
I loved the attention Laurene drew while we shopped. People liked to stop and marvel at her green eyes and blonde hair. “What a beautiful child,” they’d say.
We took care of our shopping, and I was sure to buy anything Laurene wanted. She would timidly pick out little toys but would insist that she would not bring any of them back home to her dad’s house. She said that they would be taken away. She knew that when she came back to me, her toys and clothes would still be there. She also liked to choose favorite dishes that we could prepare together. I loved to give her these small joys and watched her face light up.
On the way home, she became quiet again, so I asked if anything was wrong.
She started twisting her shirt again and looking down, she said in a small voice, “Grammy, I think I just want to kill myself—I think I just don’t want to live anymore.” Her head was down and she seemed even smaller than ever, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Oh, honey, please don’t say that.” I found a place and slowly pulled over and turned off the engine. I unfastened her seat belt and coaxed her over to my side and into my arms. She straddled me and rested her head on my chest. She fitted easily against me as if to melt into me. I stroked the back of her hair.
“Sweetheart, what would make you say something so awful?” I whispered into her hair.
“I don’t know. I think I’m no good. I’m a bad girl, and I need to die.” The two of us, alone in that pickup, created such a bond, strengthened by our spirits and held more tightly than even we could know.
I held her tenderly and whispered, “I love you, and if you hurt yourself, it would break my heart. Then I wouldn’t want to live either.”
She looked up at me and as tears ran down both our cheeks, she said, “Grammy, you’re the only one.”
I held her and named all the people I could think of saying they all love her. She seemed to calm down a bit. Very gently, I asked this baby girl what made her feel this way.
She buried her face in my chest and said, “My Mom. She tells me I’m no good. She says I’m dirty. She says I’m ugly. She says she wants Jackie and JR and not me.”
“I want you. You know I want you. She’s wrong. She shouldn’t be saying that to you. Honey, you are beautiful—never forget that.”
She said, “What about the kids at school?”
“What do you mean, honey?”
“The kids at school make fun of me. They say I’m fat. They say I’m ugly.”
I had to think a minute, then realized what she was talking about. “Honey, your mom put you and JR in an all-black school in Oklahoma. You were the only white people there. The kids didn’t understand why you didn’t look like them. Kids make fun of things they don’t understand. It wasn’t your fault. You and JR just looked different to them.”
“Grammy, they were so mean to us. I told Mom I wasn’t
