I am not alone.
I am not alone.
I am not alone.
I am shaking while I wait for the car they’re sending. But I have one more thing I need to do. I open my computer and start to shop. I have money left from my mother’s life insurance policy. I never had anyone to spend it on. But now I do.
I go on the internet and find what I’m looking for. I call the number and realize they’re in New York. I scream into the answering machine that it’s an emergency and they’re going to think I’m f**king nuts. Maybe I am. But almost immediately, someone calls me back. I tell her what I need. She agrees to do it. I dictate a quick note to go with it, and she promises to put it in the box when she has the package delivered. The store is in New York. They can take it to Faith by courier tomorrow, she says.
I wait for my car.
I wait for help.
And I am not alone.
Faith
I wake up with thoughts of Daniel in the back of my mind. I wonder where he is and what he’s doing. I get dressed and go check on Nan. Granddad is reading to her quietly, so I leave them to it. She likes to hear him talk. It calms her.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. A woman stands at the bottom step and she looks up at me. She’s holding a box. “Are you Faith?” she asks.
I nod.
“You’re one lucky woman,” she says. She laughs. “He told me to send this by courier, but I wanted to see the woman who gets this. I hope you don’t mind.” She shakes my hand, looking into my eyes.
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“Open the box,” she says with a kind smile. She turns and calls, “Happy New Year!” over her shoulder.
“Happy New Year,” I murmur back.
I take the box inside and set it on the table. I open the box first, because seriously, who opens the card first? Come on…
I look inside and can’t believe my eyes. It’s a German Black Forest clock with tiny dancers who come out of the clock when the hour chimes. I immediately wonder what goes on behind closed doors. I smile. “Who could have sent…” I whisper to myself. But I already know. I can feel it in my heart.
“Granddad!” I call. “Look!”
I carry the clock toward Nan’s room and I hold it up for them to see. It’s truly in pristine condition. It probably cost a shit ton of money.
Nan cries out, “My clock! You brought my clock back!” She looks up at Granddad and says, “I knew you would find it!”
“Nan,” he chides.
But I cover his hand with mine. She’s so happy. He stops talking.
“I love it so much,” Nan says. She grabs Granddad and pulls him down to kiss her. He laughs against her lips. I wipe my eyes and sneak out of the room, because I’m dying to read the card.
I open it.
Faith,
They say time waits for no one, but it waited for me once and I hope you’ll wait for me now.
Daniel
PS – You fixed my watch. Thank you.
Faith
I pull my glasses from my nose and set my letter to the side. Daniel’s newest letter makes me feel hopeful. He is improving every day while in therapy. Daniel went from being a really active man in the service to not active at all after he lost his leg. He was a runner, and he suddenly couldn’t run anymore. The doctors think that contributed to his depression. His PTSD is a little harder to get through, but he’s making progress. His letters are full of laughter and jokes. And some seriously sexy innuendos.
It has been four months since he sent the clock, and I would love to see him, particularly on a day like today. Today we bury Nan, and I feel like someone took a piece of my soul. Yet, I feel uplifted at the same time. I know she’s no longer suffering and that’s what matters. The last few months were hard for her. We watched her decline, and Granddad never left her side.
She made us put the clock that Daniel sent in her room, even though it chimed on the hour, every hour. She loved it. She spoke of Daniel often, even though she only met him once. I think she knew how I feel about him. I even read her his letters. Or at least the parts that were clean enough. I’ve fallen head over heels in love with the man who sends me these letters. I just wish I could see him.
A voice calls from the front door. “Faith!” It’s Granddad. The funeral car must be here.
“I’m coming,” I call. I grab my umbrella because we’re not sure what the weather is going to be like.
My parents are here. They’ve been here a lot this past month, which is good for them and was good for Nan. And good for me, too, if I have to admit it. Watching Nan decline was hard. It made me feel helpless and alone.
Nan died a week ago. I’m not sad about it anymore. Today is a special day when we can honor her life. We asked visitors to arrive at the church in their brightest and best party clothes because Nan would have liked that.
We get to the church before everyone else and we go into a room to wait for the service to start. Granddad and I stand alone in the room for a few minutes and he turns to me suddenly. He takes my shoulders in his hands and looks me in the eye. I think he’s gotten shorter through the years. But it makes no matter. He looks at me and he says, “Don’t waste a minute, Faith. Not a single minute.”
Tears fill my eyes. I can’t help it. “Okay,” I breathe.
“You have to grab hold to love when it finds you,” he says. “Sometimes it’s work. And sometimes it’s wonderful. But never take it for granted. Because when your life is over and you look back, it’s the only f**king thing that ever mattered, Faith. I swear it.”