As the banged-up burgundy station wagon sputtered to a stop, the four anxious children clambered out, nearly knocking one another over.  It was Christmas Eve and they were looking forward to their visit with Grandmama.  Sarah, their mother, had patiently awaited this long over-due vacation.  She was not yet used to being a single parent and the extra work seemed to be taking its toll on her.
    Once Sarah finally pried her aching torso and stiff knees out of the wagon, she was over-whelmed by a flashback of happy memories.  Her fingers began to tremble, and for a moment she felt as if she would faint.  It was here on Grandmama's farm that Lucas had asked her to marry him.  Not only was this the first Christmas, but also her first trip to the farm without him since the proposal.  Through suppressed tears, she took a deep breath and told herself everything would be all right.  The last thing she wanted to do was to break down now.  It was not the time or place.  Furthermore, she needed to be strong for the children.
    She looked up just in time to see her aging mother open the door and smile with twinkling eyes at her snow-covered grandchildren.  The moment they spotted her, they dashed up the rickety steps and bombarded her with hugs and kisses.  "We missed you so much Grandmama," bellowed Carly.  "Me too," chimed the younger siblings.  Maybe this trip would be good for the children if nothing else, Sarah thought.
    As she embraced her mother, the smell of sweet lilac flooded her senses.  How could she have forgotten that scent?  She remembered back to when she was twelve, only a year older than Carly.  Her mother would place a dab of lilac cream behind her ears on Sunday mornings, making her feel so grown up.  The years had soared by much too quickly since then.  Sarah wished desperately that she could go back to those wonderful years, protected under the wings of her mother and father.
    Sarah and Grandmama agreed that it would be best to wait and unload the car after they ate.  It had been a long trip and the children were sure to be hungry.  Although she lacked an appetite nowadays, Sarah knew that she, too, should eat.  She didn't want to pass out; neither did she want to be bothered by lectures about being too skinny.  Besides, after such a drive, she certainly did not feel much like lugging suitcases and Christmas packages. 
    Following the last bite of fresh pumpkin pie Sarah was pleased because they had managed to make it through supper without anyone mentioning Lucas.  She could only hope that the whole visit would go this smoothly, but she knew better.    First of all, her mother knew Sarah didn't want to talk about it, but believed nonetheless that she needed to and was sure to bring it up sooner or later.  It would probably be after the children were tucked away in bed.  Secondly, there was hardly a day that went by without at least one of the children mentioning their daddy, especially little Brandon.
    It had been nearly eight months since Lucas drowned.  At the naïve age of four, Brandon still believed his daddy would be coming home soon and, no matter how hard she tried, Sarah could not get him to understand.  There were times when she, herself, didn't even understand.  On more than one lonely night she dreamed that Lucas called and said, "Honey, I'm sorry I've been gone so long, I'm coming home."   This was a haunting experience for Sarah and she did not know how much longer she could hold on.  She felt as if any moment she would lose any trace of sanity she had left.
    Supper was over, the station wagon emptied, and the children were tucked away cozily under the hand-made quilts Grandmama so carefully pieced together.  Alas, the moment Sarah had dreaded was here.  With tender, understanding, yet somehow accusing eyes, Sarah's mother turned from the dishpan to face her.  In a gentle tone she asked, "Sarah, is there something you are trying to hide from me?"  "No, Mama," she lied, remembering now why she had stayed away so long.  For as far back as she could remember her mother always knew her more than anyone.  She knew when she was hiding something. She also knew when Sarah was lying, especially when it involved something so wrong, and what she had done this time was the worst ever. 
    As her mother spoke again, Sarah could no longer maintain her composure.  She slid off her chair on to her knees and wept like a pouting child when Grandmama asked, "Why didn't you just divorce Lucas?"  Sarah shrieked, "But he beat me, Mama; he beat me!"  "He had to die!" 
Grandmama's Farm
April 8,2002
back