Chapter
25 Facts and Finds
The next morning, I awake to a note from
Stella taped to a full coffee pot. She’s out running. Coffee made, Stella out
on a run, I choose to take my cup-o-Joe to the sun porch. A good sit sounded
perfect this late morning. I need to set myself straight before I start a long
day hunting down answers. As I pursue that secret place with God, it dawns on
me that I should read the bible more…
Oh,
Lord…here I am, so thankful to You for all You have shown me, all You have done
for me…And yet, I find that I want more. Do I need more? You have all of the answers.
You have shared some of them with me. How do I keep peace with where I am,
while striving for the rest of what is meant for me to have? How do I find that
balance?
My
dear child, seek My rest and you shall find peace there. Waiting won’t feel
such a heavy burden if you lean upon Me. Read the word and you will yet be
closer to Me, still.
I sigh. Whether relief, contentment, or
resignation I know not – Probably all of the above. Resting my head back, I
close my eyes taking a deep slow breath. I feel better than I have in days,
having accepted much that is out of my control. I am in that place with God
that is secret and sacred. Sorry, can’t share more than that. Most likely
because there are no words that exist in this physical world of ours that can
possible do justice in explaining what God does with me in this sacred place.
And I don’t want to share. It’s mine…and
His alone. A wonderful God that is capable of having a secret sacred spiritual
relationship with each and every one of His children, independent of each
other, is truly awesome. We can all have it if we are willing to see Truth,
including our own.
I sense that I am drifting, happily. A blanket
of tranquility drapes over me and I settle into this feeling of calm and cool. I
envision myself with a lazy smile upon my face, muscles relaxed. I
involuntarily take another deep slow breath, feeling the oxygen within my blood
coursing down my limbs, bringing life to my extremities…for one moment I feel
the sensation that is best described as “Aaahhhhh”…
Something
crashing to the floor woke me from my nap. Startled, my body tensed, breathing
halted, as I waited in anticipation of any more noise to come. Hearing a
shuffling sound in the lavender room next door, I whipped my blankets off and
jumped out of bed in one quick motion. Grandma is back!
I
hurried into the room, expecting to see my grandmother’s warm face, “Grandma–”
I
skid to a halt, brought up short at seeing a man…
“Uncle
Oliver?” I asked, perplexed. He was kneeling before the drawers in the built
in, a couple of drawers on the floor. That must have been the sound that woke
me.
“Ivy…I,
um…” He scrambled to shuffle papers back into a pile, clearly searching for
words before turning his attention back to me. “I, um, Ivy, I was just looking
for something. I, uh…well, I want to surprise grandma and I needed to check
something out. So, if you could keep this to yourself? I don’t want to ruin the
present.”
Was
he asking me a question? I wasn’t sure.
~~~
I came to still sitting in the sun
porch, feeling refreshed, relaxed and rearing to go. I hop up to my feet,
stopping first at the coffee pot for a refill, then make my way upstairs to the
lavender room. My goal: search the built-ins – Oliver was there for a reason.
Starting with the drawers, I begin
pulling them out one at a time noticing something curious.
“I think there might be a secret
compartment behind these drawers.” Now I’m speaking out loud to myself, ha!
The drawers are only six inches deep, where
the shelves on either side of it are a full foot deep. It didn’t take me long
to remove all of the drawers. What I found most interesting about the carpentry
of this built in was how the drawers were engineered. Typically, there is a
frame in which the drawer sits with a track in the frame and along the bottom
of the drawer. This is to ensure a proper fit and allowance for ease in pulling
and pushing the drawer in and out. Before me, however, was something
reminiscent of ‘tongue and groove’. There are no partitions within the frame
filling the center of where the drawers go. In fact, it was a huge open hole
that appeared to be waiting for shelves to be slid in.
As I looked at the drawers themselves, I
noticed two ‘tongues’ running from front to back on the sides, one on top and
one on the bottom. These fit into the ‘grooves’ running along the sides of the
open space of the built-ins. Feeling the front of the solid piece of wood
covering the back of the drawers – “Ow!” – my finger caught on metal. Upon closer
inspection, I notice it is a key hole! I am so excited! Practically sprinting,
I run down the stairs to retrieve the key necklace from my mother’s apartment
bedroom.
Before I make it back upstairs, Stella
breezes through the door out of breath and sweaty.
“Hey, how was your run?”
“Great! I just need water, a shower and
then coffee…Lots of coffee!” She grinned, leaning against the shut door.
“Well, once you are done with all of
that, come upstairs to the lavender room. You are going to love this!” And I
was off.
~~~
In no time at all, Stella had her cup of
coffee, startling me with her presence, “Hey, are you all right? You look
horrified at something you found.”
I didn’t respond.
“What are you looking at?”
I still couldn’t speak, so I shoved the
note in Stella’s hands. She gasps before revealing that this note is verbatim
of the one in a novel she read: A novel written by none other than Lillian
Sanders.
Stella quickly leaves the room,
returning with an armful of Lillian Sanders novels.
“Is that what I think it is?” I paused
waiting to hear Stella’s response. When there is none, I continue talking,
feeling the need to fill the air with something. “My grandfather, Carter
Sanders, committed suicide??? Is that really his suicide note?”
Plopping herself in an armchair, Stella
shares her thoughts (finally!), “What I find incredibly interesting – and exciting,
even if it is a bit morbid – is that this note written by Carter is the exact
same suicide note as one of Lillian’s fictional characters from her novels. I
am looking for it right now.”
As Stella began her search for the note
in a book, I figured I might as well continue searching the files. Who knows
what other gold may be in here.
“Maybe
there is more here in this room that also makes an appearance in her novels.”
“Maybe her novels are more truth than
fiction, a form of therapy for your grandmother.”
Little did I know.
After about an hour Stella speaks,
having noticed I haven’t moved in some time, “Ivy, what is it?”
“It’s, uh, it’s my…my birth certificate…”
That is right, I found my birth certificate. I should be happy, joyful,
shouting from the roof tops I know who my
dad is! But, I can’t. I am in shock. I guess a part of me actually believed
this day may never come, and I had found peace in that. Barely above a whisper,
I squeak out, “My father is Chester Abbott.”
“Who?”
“Chester Abbott. Chet for short.”
“Why does that sound familiar?”
“I don’t know...But at least now Todd has
a name to search.” I heard, saw, felt nothing else in this moment. I had a name
to the question, who is my father? I closed my eyes, pressing the birth
certificate against my chest, muttering one last time, “Chester Abbott is my
father.”
“But that’s my father,” said an
incredulous Ava.
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