Never Too Late by J.C. Laird (autobiographies to read TXT) 📕

saddest I’d ever seen on a person. I had a lump in my throat and I thought I might start crying. Something told me just to be quiet and listen.

Grandpa took in a shaky breath. He was staring at me, but I didn’t know if he was really seeing me. “Things were not good between your Grandma Gertie and I. The marriage had been over for a long time, but we stayed together out of inertia, convenience and for me to help with her mounting physical and mental problems. Pinetop was only four hours from our home, up in the forested mountains of eastern Arizona; it always reminded me a little of northern Michigan. When things would get me down I’d take off for a few days and go there to relax; I had good neighbors and friends who’d keep a watch on your Grandma while I was gone.”

I could see Grandpa’s eyes clear at the memories. I had to exhale; I’d been holding my breath, afraid to break the spell. He was still looking at me, but not really; he was somewhere else. I mean, I didn't even know what inertia meant. It was like he was recalling a well-worn story, maybe what what my mother called 'traveling down a memory lane.'

“Maureen was a retired social worker from Tucson and a widow; her husband had died less than two years prior. She liked it up there in the mountains and we met one day at the local supermarket in town. She was a little thing, maybe 5’3”, blonde with green eyes. We talked, continued to see each other afterward and … well … we ended up falling in love.”

Now Grandpa’s eyes were sparkling and smiling. He was talking to me, but still in another world. I was afraid to make a sound as I listened to him.

“Maddie, did you know that green eyes are very rare in humans? It’s true, only two percent of all people have green eyes. Hers were the most beautiful ‘windows to the soul’ you could imagine. And what a soul it was.” Grandpa could only shake his head in awe at the memories. “We were together every possible second, every minute, every time I went there, which was as often as I could get away. She was a dream come true for me, everything I ever imagined in a woman: beautiful, intelligent, charming, outgoing, kind, considerate, compassionate … hell, Maddie, she was like a grownup Girl Scout.”

Some of the sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “Which was why it couldn’t go on. We continued to see each other for over a year, but my being married bothered her greatly, no matter the complicated circumstances. And right then I was just too weak and thoughtless to make any final decisions about your Grandma and I. How very, very foolish that turned out to be.”

Grandpa seemed to sink deeper into his chair, squeezing his eyes shut, grimacing. I was scared that something was hurting him; I just didn’t know if the pain was in his body or in his mind. And I was afraid he was going to stop talking.

Seconds passed, but then, hesitantly, he began again. “I knew it must have weighed heavily on Maureen, but I ignored it, didn’t want to think about it. Finally, one day she said she just couldn’t do it anymore; she wouldn’t see or talk to me anymore, we had to stop she said. I was devastated. Weeks passed. I lost track of time, wandering around home in a daze. I couldn’t get her out of my mind, out of my heart. I couldn’t believe how much in love I was with that woman. I knew I had to spend the rest of my God-given years with her, or be forever unhappy.”

Grandpa paused and breathed in deeply before continuing. “I finally told Gertie it was time we parted. We both knew it was going to happen eventually, I just didn’t tell her why the time had come right then. I was going to sign over the house and everything we had, make arrangements for her to get help if she needed or wanted it. As for me, I didn’t want anything but to be with Maureen. But it was too late. When I thought I had everything figured out I called her, only to find that her phone had been disconnected with no forwarding number. I raced back to Pinetop. I discovered her cabin had been sold and she was gone.”

I had been listening silently in awe of this grownup tale, but now found my voice. “Did you try to find her, Grandpa?”

“Yes, I searched every chance I got, but this was before the Internet. I wrote letters, hoping they would be forwarded, but they all came back stamped ‘Return to Sender-No Forwarding Address’. From public records, I tracked a couple of post office boxes, but they were already closed when I checked on them. I kept looking, and after they invented the Internet, I thought that maybe … but there was never any trace. So, I stayed with Gertie and took care of her until she passed away. There was really nothing else for me. I knew there would never be anyone after Maureen.”

Wide-eyed, I whispered, “But how does any of that have anything to do with the ocean?”

Grandpa’s eyes were blurry and unfocused. “I remember the last night Maureen and I were together. She was inconsolable, crying in my arms as I held her. She said that maybe in another life, in another time and place, we could have been together. And if there ever was such a place, we would find each other somehow. Maureen loved the ocean and said one day she was going to live by one so she could go to sleep listening to the surf every night. Maddie, maybe she found her ocean and she’s sitting on a beach somewhere in the world, as I am here. I don’t know how to find her, so I’ve been waiting for her to find me.”

“But, Grandpa, maybe she died and that’s why you haven’t been able to find her. And if she’s dead she can’t come to you, so you’d be wasting your time sitting—”

I stopped. I knew as soon as I blurted the words out it might be hurtful for Grandpa. Mom said kids weren’t tactful, that we often spoke before we thought about what we were saying, even the hurtful things. She was right. Things got hazy as my eyes filled with tears.

Maybe Grandpa hadn’t heard, because he was still talking—but not to me—his words so soft they almost disappeared on the wafting ocean breeze as he pleaded, “Where are you Maureen? I’m so tired and I’ve been waiting for so long; please, please come back and find me.” Grandpa sighed into silence, his breath blending with the gentle sounds of the waiting ocean. He was gazing longingly out to sea, back in a world only he and that Maureen woman knew about. Or maybe dreaming of a world only they could imagine, no matter where they were now.

I started crying and ran home.

 

#

 

Grandpa died the next day. Aunt Sarah found him in his chair under the umbrella, his little red wagon and cooler next to him. Aunt Sarah couldn’t wake him and he was cold on a hot day. After that it was a confusion of sights and sounds in our building; ambulances, people milling about, phones constantly ringing, Mom and Dad crying, everybody scurrying around. Aunt Sarah watched Billy, Megan and me while Mom and Dad went to a mortuary or something.

People kept coming and going; a lot of people knew Grandpa, so I snuck out the back and ran down to the beach. Grandpa’s umbrella and things were still there, nobody had thought about coming to get them. The beach people seemed not to know what had happened that morning. I sat down heavily in Grandpa’s chair—the chair he had sat in for the last nine years—and started crying again.

A shadow fell over me. “Please don’t cry, Maddie.”

I looked up at a young, dark haired man standing in front of me in blue bathing trunks, his tall body blocking out the sun. He kind of looked familiar; he was probably one of our condominium neighbors. “You must have heard about my Grandpa,” I said, sniffing.

“Yes, Maddie we know. But everybody dies, time changes, the worlds move on and everything will be okay, trust me.”

I had no idea what he meant by “time changes” and “worlds”. I mean, how many worlds are there?

His shadow was joined by a smaller one, cast by a pretty blonde woman in a red, one-piece swim suit. She was almost a foot shorter than the man. “Hi, Maddie, I’m glad I got to meet you,” she said, smiling. She reached out and I tentatively shook her firm, cool hand in greeting.

They looked like college kids. There were a lot of them at the beach during the summer. Maybe they knew my parents somehow, I figured.

The blonde woman took her companion’s hand and gazed up at him with her beautiful green eyes. “We need to leave, John, it’s time to go home.”

He leaned down and kissed her gently. He straightened, turned to me and grinned. “I told you if I waited long enough she would find me.”

I stared at the young woman. “Maureen?” I whispered, my mouth hanging open. My head swung back to the man. “Grandpa?”

“Yes, Maddie, for some things it’s never too late. And love is one of them,” he said.

I jumped up and hugged and kissed them both, first Grandpa, then Maureen, their warm youth filling me with laughter. I waved goodbye to the two of them as they turned and walked off down the beach, hand in hand, mingling and disappearing forever among the beachgoers along the shore. I was a little sad, but it was a happy kind of sad.

 

#

 

A week later I went to Grandpa’s funeral. Of course, I was the only one who knew it wasn’t really a funeral. Mom and Dad were very proud of me for being a big girl during the whole thing. I smiled a lot and never cried once.

 

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Publication Date: 06-13-2014

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