Leap - Chapter two

                                              2


          After Grace had dutifully unpacked the car and put away the groceries she’d bought in town, she had taken a relaxing bath, followed by a fitful nap on the couch.  Now she woke with a twinge of hunger nibbling at her stomach. She stumbled into the kitchen, heated a can of tomato soup, and grilled a cheese sandwich. The meager meal was prepared in minutes, and she took her usual place at the dining table.  She would have been across from Mom with Dad at the head of the table and Anna at her side.  She tried not to look at the empty seats surrounding her.
          Mom had always made dinner such an event at the Family House.  The linen tablecloth, sterling silver cutlery, Waterford crystal, all brought from home, sparkling in the candlelight from her favorite centerpiece, would look like a spread in a ladies magazine.  She had fussed over every little detail and beamed with pleasure as her family voiced their appreciation.
She looked down at her pathetic setting for one, a bowl of soup and a sandwich on a paper towel.  Her mother would have been disappointed.  Her shoulders slumped.
          Grace was here, trying to uphold the tradition of ‘family week’, in part out of desire to escape the house and the many calls from worried friends.  But the larger truth of why she was here was simple guilt.  She had hurt her mother and she felt that she owed her this much.  In a further attempt to honor her memory, Grace now bowed her head and tried to pray, not because she wanted to talk to God, but because it was what her parents would have done if they were here.
          Four years ago, when Grace was in her senior year of high school, her parents had undergone a drastic change.  Well, at least Grace considered it to be drastic. They became Christians, ‘born again’ according to them. She never fully understood what caused this change but it began with a so-called miracle her father had experienced with one of his terminal patients. He said the woman’s faith had saved her life and touched his heart. Whatever the reason, it had changed everything.
          It started with church. 
          The Rockwells had tried several churches before they found one that ‘felt like home’. Then they started attending Sunday school and mid-week bible studies. They began serving in ministries through the church, and instituted a family quiet time of bible reading and prayer each evening. Most of these changes were all right with Grace, she could see what a difference church was making in their lives. Her parents suddenly spent less time at work and more time at home, Dad developed patience and Mom walked around singing all the time. It even transferred to their personal relationship where they were more loving toward each other, and spent evenings cuddled on the couch watching movies.  They even had a date night each week. All of that was nice, and Grace was glad to see them so relaxed and genuinely happy.  However, when they insisted that she and Anna get more involved than just attending Sunday morning services, Grace grew resistant, and eventually outright defiant.
          It wasn’t like she had a problem believing in God.  She was sure there was a Supreme Being, the creator of all, there almost had to be, but the concept of a loving God, who was actively involved in her life and required complete devotion in return, was uncomfortable for her.
          For the first seventeen years of her life, her parents had given her and Anna speech after speech, (to Grace they were more like lectures), about how they should live. They preached that the secret to happiness was independence.  Education of course was a must if they were to achieve total independence, and they should let nothing and no one get them off track.  “Hard work early in life will allow you to enjoy your life to the fullest later,” was the speech the girls got if their grades began to slip.  “Live for yourself first Grace, only then can you ever hope to be happy living for someone else,” was the answer to questions about dating.  “If you don’t do the best you can for yourself no one else will; you’ll have only yourself to blame when you’re miserable,” was a favored pearl that was offered often.  And to Grace, it seemed her parents had the formula for success.  They lived a comfortable life-style, achieved through their own efforts, and had the means to enjoy life to the fullest.  She wanted what they had, the satisfaction of success and the fun that went with it.  She was not a selfish person but she believed that her own happiness must be her first priority.  The whole idea of making God the priority in her life was not in the plan.
          So when her parents surrendered to the ‘Jesus thing,’ she felt it was a total contradiction to everything they had instilled in her. It was fine for them, it was their choice after all, but when they expected Grace to give her life to Jesus and the church, it angered her. What right did they have to change the rules all of a sudden? She was a senior in high school and had a clear vision of how her future would play out.  She wanted accomplishment and adventure, to experience life on her terms. She was a strong willed individual with a personality all her own, the product of her upbringing, and she resented her parents for expecting her to give up on herself and become a part of some mindless cult of followers. Not her, not then, not ever, and if they couldn’t understand that then it was their problem not hers.  And it was a problem.  The battle of wills soon became the biggest things in their lives, overshadowing every thing else, and she couldn’t stand it. 
          For Grace, college became the perfect excuse to distance herself from her parents.  There was always a test to study for, or a committee to volunteer with, always a reason to avoid going home.  She seldom called and when she did go home, for holidays or summer break, she made a point of having her own plans. She would stay gone for days at a time, choosing to enjoy life with her friends and avoid her parents and the constant, if unspoken, pressure to submit.  They never stopped trying to persuade her, they thought it was their duty to lead her to Christ, but toward the end they grew frustrated with her callous attitude.  Their frustration and her obstinacy rubbed against each other like tectonic plates, causing unexpected eruptions and sudden explosions, laying waste to the relationship between parent and child.   
          The day her parents died, Grace had called home to tell them that she was not going to spend Thanksgiving at the Family House that year.  Caren’s uncle had a cabin in the mountains of Colorado and she was going skiing with a group of friends instead.  She knew her parents would be disappointed, and it would probably cause an argument, but at least some part of her, the defiant part, was looking forward to exerting her independence.   
          “What about family week,” her mother had asked over the phone.
          “Come on Mom, what’s so special about being cooped up in the woods for a week?”
          “It’s not about the setting Grace, it’s about the time we spend together.  It brings us closer to each other and closer to God.”
          Grace rolled her eyes, “Does it always have to be about God with you Mom?” 
Her mother sighed on the other end.  “Yes Grace, it is always about God.”
          “Well not for me.  For me it is about living my life, don’t you get it?  I don’t want to spend a week in the woods talking religion and reading the bible, I’d rather be skiing with my friends.”
          “What about your family, your sister misses you,” her mother said sadness in her voice.
          “Don’t try to guilt me into this, it won’t work.  Besides y’all don’t need me for family week, you’re God’s family - He’s all you need. Isn’t that what you’ve been saying for years?”
          “You’re His family too Grace.”
          “No I’m not” she retorted, and instantly regretted it.
          Silence.
          “You still there Mom?”
          “Yes Grace” her mother said, clearly frustration.
          “Well . . .”
          “Well what?  You’re not a child anymore, I can’t tell you what to do, isn’t that what you’ve been saying for years?”
          “I’m glad we can agree on something,” Grace said.  “I’ve made my decision.  Don’t count on me for Thanksgiving.” With that she had hung up the phone. 
          She never spoke to her mother again.
          The e-mail she was reading when the deputy called with the news was Anna’s way of trying to smooth things over.  I really miss my sister.  Please.  Grace never had a chance to answer that e-mail.  She never had a chance to apologize to her mother, or to tell them all how much she really loved them.  And now, the love that went unspoken was a burning ache in her gut, with no way to relieve the pain.
          After the funeral, Caren had tried repeatedly to talk her into going on the ski trip, suggesting that it might do her some good to get away from home for a while, pleading with her not to be alone right now.  Grace hated the sound of worry and pity in her friend’s voice, but she thought she understood.  She had not let her self succumb to any form of grief since the accident, no crying, no anger, no outward sign that she had suffered a devastating loss.  People said it was not healthy, it made them uncomfortable, not knowing what to say or how to console her.  Caren’s concern was sweet, but going camping during Thanksgiving week would make her feel like a traitor.  No, she would carry out the family tradition and escape to the woods.  She would do it out of respect.


          Now she sat here, head bowed, trying to pray, and the words stuck in her throat behind a damn of unreleased anguish.  Tears filled her eyes making her vision swim.  Tears that insisted on being present.  They had waited as long as they cared to and now she was powerless to stop them.
        “Why,” she whispered to herself.  “Why did I fight with her?  Why was I so selfish?  Couldn’t I give them just one lousy week?”  Hot tears spilled down her cheeks and her shoulders trembled.  “Why,” she yelled.  She pushed away from the table, slopping soup from the bowl, and jumped to her feet.  “Why?  Why did you take my family away from me? ”  She screamed at the ceiling, her face contorted by grief.  “They were wrong about you weren’t they.  You’re not a loving father.  My father would never hurt me like this.  You’re just mean and cold and I hate you!”
          Leaving her food untouched on the table, Grace stormed to the bedroom and threw herself fully dressed onto the bed where her parents would have slept.  She buried her head in the thick pillow and cried herself into a fitful sleep, filled with disturbing dreams.