Lydia's Dream

A lone figure shone brightly against the solid layer of snow. White covered the world; even the forest was solid white. In the monotone world, the shawl and hat the figure wore stood out like a beacon.

Lydia walked to her weekly destination to visit her Gram. Gram had been the most important and influential person in Lydia’s young life. Sadly, Gram was no longer in this world, Lydia still visited religiously. She ignored the biting cold determined to get to her destination even though her body wished to return to the relative warmth of a home.

As the tree line opened to reveal a small village. Lydia smiled and walked into the opening. The villagers milled about outside, enjoying the weak sun that was a gift after three days of snow and gloom.

Fragrances from the bakery floated out, surrounding the area with the rich smells of warm breads and pastries. Children darted past her while compacting snowballs to bombard their friends. The store windows were filled with simple everyday items that sometimes seemed like a treasure during lean times. Filled with the most people was the local restaurant, where people were chatting and eating the offered foods.

Lydia just observed the people and the activity, not missing a step. She walked a straight line through the town to the remote church on the far side of town. The chilled air was peaceful, and anyone could feel the reverence of the cemetery.

Bare trees reached upward begging for the sun; their dark limbs were a sharp contrast to the ashen sky. The bell tower of the church rose gracefully above the structure ready to sing out an invitation to come inside. The feature that stood out the most for Lydia was the cemetery that led to the building. Rounded tombstones, stone crosses and other monuments marked the lives of ones that had lived before, and guided lookers to who had walked the grounds before them and had shaped the little Soviet town.

Lydia held the hem of her skirt above the snowdrifts and walked directly to the grave she knew so well. Lowering herself in front of a simple round marker that was dwarfed by a magnificent cross, she began to chat.

“Hello Gram, how are things in the after world? I am doing fine. Times are a bit lean, but I will make it through. Have you heard the news? Karrington has eloped with some English doctor named Frank! Can you imagine? Everyone thought that Karrington would be alone forever, never wanting to give her heart. He was visiting as a mission doctor. He was not very tall, and had a bit of a belly, but he was so sweet and warm. Everything was so low key then suddenly we hear the news that she eloped. Now the two have moved so he can be closer to his new job. What a world.”

She smiled softly down at the grave as she spoke and brushed away the intruding snow. Fingering the engraving
marking her Gram’s life, she seemed to hear a whisper in the cold winds reminding her of the final request that Gram had issued. Lydia sighed.

“I know I promised to honor your request, but right now I need to keep working so that I can earn the money. I have a dream now though, finally; I want to go see Ireland. Wouldn’t that be beautiful? Green hills, warmer weather, those wonderful accents…” Lydia’s eyes went dreamy as she talked.

“What a nice dream, Ireland is reputed as a beautiful place. I believe everyone likes it,” a male voice spoke up from behind her. Lydia jumped because she believed that she was alone in the cemetery.

“Oh, sorry Miss, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?” the owner of the voice walked over to where she sat and smiled down at her. He was average height with shaggy dark hair with nothing remarkable but his accent. She had never seen the man before and wondered who he was.

“No…I mean yes. I’m fine and no, it was no problem you startling me,” she stuttered slightly baffled.

He leaned down offering a hand to help her stand. She carefully placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. He gently held her hand and introduced himself. “I’m Sam Logan."

Lydia stared into his eyes, trying to gage what sort of person he was and where he was from. “Lydia.”

“Lydia…” he inquired raising an eyebrow.

“Just Lydia.”

“Well, Just Lydia, would you like to join me for some tea? I use an office in the church, and there’s a kitchen in the building. It’s warmer in there, plus its safe,” he said reading into her hesitation.

Milling the invitation over for a moment, she finally nodded and walked with him through the snow to the church. They were welcomed by a blast of warmed air from a fireplace that was in the side hallway where they entered. Lydia smiled and watched the dancing flames as Sam took her shawl and hat, hanging them and his own outdoor attire on a hook beside the door.

He took Lydia’s arm and guided her along the way. “Here’s my humble office,” Sam pointed to open door and kept going until they arrived to the kitchen. Efficiently, Sam wiped out a kettle and placed it on the stove to boil.

“Thank you. I never knew that there was a kitchen in here,” Lydia commented as she looked around noting the cleanliness and how compact everything was.

“Not many people do. In fact, it took me two weeks to notice it because the door was always closed.” Sam laughed, “I kept smelling food and saw hot food all around, but thought someone had a microwave, someone who was important. Imagine my surprise to look in one day and saw it was a kitchen.”

Lydia smiled shyly. She twisted her fingers and cleared her throat, “excuse me, but I can’t help but notice your accent, where are you from?”

Sam poured the boiling water over tea bags into the mugs that he had prepared and took the cups to the small eating counter that doubled as a prep table.
“America, Maine.”

She took the offered cup and nodded as he continued on, sitting beside her.

“Most of my family lives in Maine, settled and happy, but I had an itch to travel. Thankfully my family understands, so I can indulge and scratch my itch. I went to Montana, Canada, Alaska, Italy, and England. I then decided to come to the Soviet after I found out that I have an uncle here.”

“An uncle? But you said your family lived in the States.”

“Yeah, they do, but it turned out my grandfather –dad’s father—had came over here when he was young and met a girl. Unfortunately he had to go back home because of an emergency and she wouldn’t go with him. He pined for her for years, writing and begging her to join him but she refused to come over. With his family falling apart and trying to save their home, he could not return for years. They soon they lost touch and never in her letters did she mention that she was carrying my grandfather’s child. By the time he had accepted that his love would not join him, he had met Grandma who worked at the same shop he did, they married a year and a half later and had Dad. Three years ago my uncle found Grandpop’s address and wrote to him to establish contact. I was traveling so it just seemed right to come here and meet him.”

Lydia was entranced by Sam’s story, “Wasn’t it a surprise that your grandfather had another child? How did everyone handle the news?”

Sam refilled her cup, “Grandpop was honest, he told Grandma that he had fallen in love over here. She was hurt, but tried to get him to return to the girl he had met believing that if you love it, you must let it go. By that time he had no clue where his first love had disappeared too. While Grandma helped him save his family’s home, and was with him when his mom died, he had fallen in love with her. Grandpop had no clue that he had a son over here, so it was a surprise when Uncle Zeke contacted us. No one was mad, just shocked, but not surprised. Grandpop came over and met Zeke when he first introduced himself. I was on the road and it was my turn to meet him. I’ve been here two months and getting ready to leave, its time to move on.”

“How do you know its time to leave? Is your uncle kicking you out?” she teased, then looked puzzled.

“No, Uncle Zeke isn’t kicking me out, I just feel like its time to move on.”

Lydia nodded when a thought struck her. “Wait a minute, why are you here so familiar with this church?”

“I’m here at the church because this is where my uncle works, so I was helping out, doing odd-jobs, like shoveling snow, helping file etc. So that’s my story what’s yours?” he smiled over his cup and waited for her to answer.

“I’m 22 and I’ve lived here all my life. I have no family now since Gram passed on. I never met my dad, and my mother ran off to the theatre to act when I was young, so it was just Gram and I. Unfortunately Gram passed away last winter, just over a year ago. I’ve been tending to the farm and trying to keep her memory alive, but it’s difficult. I visit her every week, you know.”

“What was this about a request you were talking about?”

“Gram made me promise to learn to live, and to make a dream. She said I was dreamless because I was too busy tending to others. I just thought of the idea to travel when we were snowbound this week. There was a magazine that I was given last time I was at the store. I finally had time to look at it and in it showed Ireland, so the dream formed. That’s my life in a nutshell. So how do you like this town?”

“It’s a nice place, not what I was expecting.”

“Oh, what were you expecting?”

He shrugged his shoulders and gazed out the little window. “I don’t know, less civilized and more shy-ish, I guess. Also less prosperous, from movies the only place that thrived here in the Soviet was Moscow.”

Lydia snorted and looked horrified. “No, not at all. Do you believe every movie you see? Next thing I will hear coming out of your mouth is that you believe that the world is flat.”

Sam laughed at her ranting. “No, my dear, I don’t believe everything I see, but I do believe everything I read. Haven’t you seen that paper that a fish-man gave birth to a stork?” he teased.

Lydia looked at him like he lost his mind and laughed.

“Well, needless to say I was pleasantly surprised that this place was more civilized than I expected. I know it’s not Moscow, but its thriving.”

“Only by hard work and a few people with decent backing. Old man Thompson has managed to sell these exotic crops that is considered a delicacy. No one knows what the heck it is, but it keeps him busy and provides him the money to keep the wool factory open,” she supplied, mentioning the small spinning factory on the outskirts of town.

“So what do you do? Work at the factory?”

“No, I work my Gram’s farm. I try to anyways, but lately its getting too much for me to take care of alone,” he nodded remembering overhearing her outside saying that times were tough. “I’m also working as a maid for Thompson’s nephew, who has managed to make a small fortune in the markets. I’m saving every penny. I thought to sell the farm, but then I would have no place to stay or come home to.”

“Why can’t you get those fortune crops that Old man Thompson has?”

“He won’t let anyone near them, no one knows what they are. I have asked him, even tried to sneak a peek in his greenhouse. It’s no use, the farm’s going under and I’ll be stuck forever.”

Sam’s heart ached for Lydia as he looked into her sad eyes that were filling with tears. Suddenly inspiration struck.

“Come with me! That’s the answer, sell the farm, get a small apartment to have as home and come travel with me. I’m getting ready to leave anyway; traveling gets lonely at times so I wouldn’t mind some company. I’ll help pay your way and we can go to Ireland together. I haven’t been there yet, so what do you think?”

Lydia was shocked beyond words at the proposition. The idea and the excitement in his voice were too much for her to take in all at once.

“No, But…I…I can’t…I mean…” she stuttered with surprise.

“How stupid of me for springing this on you like this,” Sam flinched as he remembered her caution and fright . She was a stranger from a strange place. Why would she trust him?

"It just occurred to me and I think it’s a good idea. Give it a few days and consider it, please. I’m a good guy, just ask around.” He laughed. “In fact my uncle is a priest here, so please give it a thought, k?”

Rubbing her temples Lydia concentrated on her cup. “I don’t know, I don’t even know how old you are or anything about you.”

“I’m 25, and that is why you need to ask around for. I promise not to hurt you.”

Lydia shifted nervously in her seat. Her dream had just been presented to her on a silver platter, but by a complete stranger. She didn’t know what to think or say for an answer.

“Um, Thanks for the tea, its nice meeting you, Sam.”

She stood to leave and he reached up and gently took her hand. He got to his feet and led her towards the door. Sam then placed her shawl around her shoulders. “Lydia, I’m serious, the offer is genuine. If you want to travel then let me help you. We’ll both make a new friend and see the world. You’re a sweet girl who deserves the opportunity to have something she wants. It seems to me from what you said that you have never taken care of yourself, am I right?”

Lydia flushed under his gaze, “Yep I’m right. Just give it a thought. I promise that I won’t leave until you have a firm decision, either it be tomorrow, next week, or next year. Just come by the church here and leave a message on my desk if I’m not here.” He opened the door for her, “I hope to see you later.”

Lydia walked out into the snow and shivered, not looking back until she had reached the cemetery. She glanced back as she walked by her Gram’s grave. Seeing that no one was around, she squatted by the tombstone.

“What a difference an hour makes, Gram. When I came here to visit, traveling was a dream, but now after talking to that crazy Sam Logan he offered me a chance to live my dream. I don’t know what to say or do Gram. What if he’s a murderer? Or just plain crazy? But what if he’s a great guy and genuine? Give me an answer if you can Gram. I wish you were here to help me decide you were so wise. I knew I could trust your decisions.” She sighed with confusion and continued on, “I guess I’m on my own then. I’ll ask around and see who he is what he’s like, then try to decide, but not now or today, but tomorrow. I need to think this over and right now it is too daunting and shocking. Bye Gram, I miss you.”

She kissed the cold stone and rubbed her hand over Gram’s name. Lydia slowly walked away from the church and cemetery, thoughts heavy on her mind. She never saw the figure that had slipped out from behind a huge marker in the shape of an angel that was off to the side of her Gram’s grave. Sam had come out of the front door and had approached from the far side of the graveyard, listening to Lydia. As he watched her walk away, he thought over his offer.

“I hope you come Lydia, I really hope you do. You can trust me. You deserve this,” he whispered to her shrinking back.
* * *


Lydia had not slept for nights, making her weary and irritable. Shimmering through the exhaustion was a spark of excitement. She had interviewed almost everyone in the whole town. It had started by talking to just a few people and soon others were eavesdropping and supplying their opinions on Sam.

Everyone liked him, and she could tell it was unrehearsed or un-encouraged by Sam asking for good reviews. They told her of his many good points, how sweet he was, how polite, how he paid his bills on time, how he hadn’t tried to clobber Mullet when the dog had humped him. They threw in points they didn’t like, for example, his hair was too shaggy, or he shoveled snow wrong. Even Mrs. Evans, the town’s mother hen (she had 8 children) had commented that he was basically a sweet boy, but he didn’t eat enough vegetables. For the most part his reviews were excellent, but she still couldn’t decide if she should just give everything up and leave with him.

She couldn’t sleep for the fourth night from indecision. Finally she gave up and rolled out of bed, slipped on a pair of slippers and went to Gram’s room. It was almost as Gram had left it, neat and tidy. Her hairbrush still on the small table, clothes were folded in neat little piles on shelves, even a towel was draped over the back of a chair. Lydia’s heart still ached whenever she entered, but the pain was not so great now that a year had passed, but she still hadn’t packed up Gram’s belongings. Picking up the brush she slowly brushed out her long brown hair.

“Oh Gram, I wish I knew what to do,” she smiled wearily, “if nothing else to be able to get some sleep.” Looking around the room holding Gram’s possessions, Lydia relished the memories. She smiled at a picture that Gram had hung after Lydia had painted it when she was five. It still hung on the wall.

The books on the shelf called her, it seemed. She walked entranced to them and glanced over the selection; a thin, plain book caught her eye. Lydia pulled it out and saw it was her grandmother’s journal and took it to the chair. The pages were dusty, but as she read she could hear Gram’s voice like she was standing next to her. It told of the farm, life, how she had felt, how proud she was and how much she loved Lydia, and towards the end how she was feeling sick. After she had went to the doctor and found out she had ravenous, man-eating cancer, she filled the pages with memories and letters to Lydia. She told her all the secrets that she had kept, who her first love was, what drove her, and even how she felt when Lydia’s mom had left. Lydia was in tears as she read the diary, surprised about all the things Gram had not told her earlier. When Lydia turned to the last page she saw that it was a letter to her, dated the day before her grandmother had died.

Lyddie, my love

My time has come; the end is here upon. We have spent the last few months together talking and exploring and the years of loving you; and it has been wonderful. You are such a beautiful, caring and wonderful woman, and I am very proud. I love you, but I am worried. I fear I cannot tell you this at this time, because of my request and you have enough to worry about with my passing. I am worried because I fear that you will grow old quickly and alone only to die young caring for the world and not yourself.
I have requested you to find a dream, when you find it go for it, make your dream come true. I also asked for you to take care of yourself. Sweetie, find your heart, please don’t keep working yourself to an early grave. Although I would love to see you sooner, I would rather it be later when you enter the afterworld. Do whatever you must to do to fulfill your heart and soul. I know it will be difficult, but I want what’s best for you.
I love you and miss you. I know you will read this eventually. Take care, dream and remember you will always be and always have been my treasure.
Follow your heart, Love, Gram.

Lydia sat staring at the page crying silently. How like Gram to worry about her even from the grave. Her eyes refused to leave the comfort of her grandmother’s handwriting. Lydia read the last lines of the letter several times and smiled. She closed the book and held it close, feeling like she was holding Gram’s spirit.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she turned out the light and went to bed. She slept better then she had in years, clutching the book and holding her decision.
* * *

Three weeks later Lydia laid a small bottle of gin, Gram’s favorite drink, on the tombstone. By her side Sam stood silently while she talked.

“Well Gram, you gave me my answer, so this is no surprise. I’m leaving today. Sam and I are going to Ireland to explore and live. It’s going to be an adventure, my dream come true. I have finally fulfilled your request. I sold the farm to a couple who wanted to start a ranch. The couple wanted to keep the furniture, so that was one less worry for me. I kept most of our other things.” A soft sob escaped her lips. Sam handed her a handkerchief and patted her shoulder.

“ Oh, bit of gossip, it was found out that Old man Thompson was growing plain daisy’s in that greenhouse and had been selling them as exotic greens to fancy hotels and resorts. He was making a fortune, but someone broke in and took every last plant but a few leaves. He was ranting in the Town Square that his crop was stolen, and he was so mad when asked what it was he spilled the beans. It was funny, wish you could have seen it.” Lydia glanced at her watch and noted the time. She brushed away the snow from the marker and looked over the familiar scene of the white ground, the quiet church, and the cemetery. “Bye Gram. I love you and promise I’ll come and visit. Good bye.”

Tears were flowing down her cheeks as Sam hugged her and leaned down.

“Gram, thank you for entrusting her to me, I promise to take care of her and to protect her with my life. We never met, but I like you. Rest in peace knowing Lydia is going to live a wonderful life,” Sam placed a spray of flowers on the grave.

The two walked slowly out of the cemetery towards town where Zeke was waiting in the car to take them to the train station. Lydia’s heart wanted to beat out of her chest, and homesickness was washing over her, but the promise of something great and Gram’s approval spurred her on.

Lydia turned and looked one more time towards her old home and towards Gram. She waved slowly then got in the car, ready to experience life and adventure.

Gram’s spirit smiled sadly as the car pulled away. Her heart was swelled with love as she waved until the car was out of sight, then she turned and walked into the final light of the eternity, knowing Lydia would be happy and well.