Grandmother's Basket of Yarn

Today I returned to my hometown. A place I haven’t seen since I started college. I had to return so I could sell my grandmother’s house and put everything in storage.
When I was two I was told my mother left me with a babysitter and never came back. My father was so distraught that he couldn’t even take care of himself much less me. One night a couple of weeks after my mother’s disappearance my father took me to my grandmother’s house and left me there. He told his mother he would be back in a couple of hours but he never returned.
My grandmother was a sweet person but older and had a hard time taking care of a two year old. She never said to me she resented taking care of me, but sometimes words don’t have to be spoken. She provided everything a child could ever want. The only thing I didn’t get much of was love. She wasn’t mean or anything just not very loving.
When I enter the house that had been closed up for ten years it was like walking back in time. Everything was exactly as I remembered it. Over by the window was my grandmother’s rocking chair and beside it on the floor was her basket of yarn. She had an unfinished blanket and a needle marking her spot stuck through it. I can still see her sitting there rocking and knitting. She often said it relaxed her, and she made plenty of blankets that just sat in a box in the closet. My parents both abandoned me but my grandmother was always there. She never talked about my parents. I asked her once where they were and she said one day we will talk about it when you are older. We never got to have that talk two weeks before I was suppose to leave for college my grandmother died in her sleep. Now I stand and look around I wish my grandmother was here so I could tell her I love her and thank her for taking care of me.
Back in my hotel room I woke the next day refreshed from my sleep and decided to grab some breakfast on the way back to the house. I spent the first couple of hours going through my old bedroom and then the living room. I just kept a few of the mementos from my childhood, all of them fit in a shoebox. The kitchen and other rooms could wait for tomorrow I just wanted to get my grandmother’s room over with today.
I opened the door that had not been opened since the day my grandmother died and so many memories came flooding back to me. She was the only person I can remember that ever cared about me. I went through all her clothes and packed them up. There were a couple of boxes of stuff on the floor in the closet that I had to go through. Inside the boxes were pictures of my grandmother and grandfather who had died when my father was younger. I saw pictures of my mother and father who looked so happy together. There were pictures of me and my parents. The whole time I was growing up I never remembered any relatives visiting. The pictures I saw were just of my parents and grandparents and myself .The other box looked like it was full of papers and I decided that was a job for tomorrow and returned to the hotel for a much needed shower and some sleep.
I worked half the day on the kitchen and other rooms then I went back to my grandmother’s room. I dragged a chair over to the box and sat down and got to work. There were newspaper clippings of her grandfather’s death it said that her grandfather had beaten her grandmother and their son who was only eight years old at the time had called police. When the police arrived her grandfather shot at officers and was killed by returning gunfire by police. Her poor father had to witness the beating of his mother and the death of her father. She continued to go through the box which turned out to be the box of secrets her grandmother never got to tell her about. She found another clipping telling of a body found by the side of the road. The body was later determined to be that of a local woman, oh God it was her mother. She never deserted her she was taken from her. The next clipping was about the death of her father. He had committed suicide and the note left beside his body stated that he had killed his wife in a fit of rage. I sat there so stunned. I always wondered why my grandmother had my last name changed to that of my mother’s maiden name. She was protecting me from others finding out who I was related to. Inside the box I found a card from someone addressed to me. It said when you find this card give me a call written on it alone with the phone number.
My curiosity of course got the better of me and I could not wait another moment to dial the number. I was so nervous not knowing what to expect from the call I was virtually shaking. The caller explained that he had been to see my grandmother the day before she had died. He said that he was my brother and he was glad that my grandmother had not thrown the card away. He had learned that he was adopted and his parents were deceased. He said he was happy to learn he had a sister. Their grandmother stated that she had decided to put him up for adoption because she could not take care of both children alone.
Today I don’t feel so alone in the world anymore I have a brother. My brother has two children and a wife. I have a nephew who is two years old and a niece that is that is about two months old. They are about the same age as me and my brother when were separated. My sister in law is a great person and I finally have a family who I love and who loves me.