The First Gardener
Page 32
That done my heart more good than I ever be able to tell him. Give me a piece a my dignity back. Give me hope maybe someday they find out who really gone and killed that florist fella.
I was prayin’ they’d find out sooner so I could close out life with Shirley in our own bed, kissin’ my own babies and grandbabies, livin’ without these here metal bars. But it ain’t work out that way. And a coupla gov’nors even tried to go and pardon me. But can’t pardon a criminal in Tennessee ’less he done all his time. And I be dead ’fore that happen—’less they can do fancy with that DNA stuff I hear ’bout. And at this point, I thinkin’ that ain’t likely.
I always knowed that these bars gots me wrapped up ain’t s’posed to be mine. But they all the bars I gots left ’cause I done let go a the ones on my heart a long time ago.
I knowed that old woman ain’t picked me outta that lineup ’cause she had some kinda grudge. She just think it be me. And I gots to admit, I spend me some time bein’ real angry with her and the judge and the lawyer and all them jurors.
But I finally let go a bein’ mad at ’em. Finally ’cided one prison in one lifetime be ’nough.
Now I sure glad I do that.
’Cause the way I see it, I rather be a free man in prison than a ’prisoned man who think he free.
Afterword
Now that we’ve completed our journey together through this book, you might be looking for some profound reason as to why I wrote it. I’m still not sure that I know. I do know the idea came to me from out of the blue, and it was Jeremiah’s voice I heard first. (Yes, that’s proof to all my friends that I do hear voices.) I knew Maddie would die. And I knew that if I was ever going to write a story like this, I needed to write it before I ever had children. I had no idea that during my first few weeks of writing this, I would meet a wonderful man and eventually become a “bonus” mom to five beautiful children.
I discovered as I began to write about Gray and Mackenzie’s pain over losing Maddie that I was able to use much of my own personal pain about not having children. That had been a deep ache in my heart for so long. Although I don’t know what it is to have birthed children and lost them, I do know what it is to grieve the children I thought I would give birth to.
Another thing I know is something life has taught me: God owes me nothing. Oh, I thought for a long time that he did. I thought if I was good enough, kind enough, or did enough, he would surely make sure I got the long end of the stick at least 90 percent of the time. Now I am very aware that this isn’t true. God owes me nothing. And the fact that I have anything good at all is simply because he is so exceptionally kind. In his love, he shows up with unexpected blessings, amazing friendships, beautiful opportunities. And yes, sometimes he allows inexplicable pain.
Another thing I’ve learned is that God will give us beautiful companions on the journeys through our pain if we are willing to open our eyes and look for them. Sometimes they will come with the wisdom of a Jeremiah. Or they’ll have the persistence of a Eugenia or the steady hand of a Gray. However they come, they too are God’s gift to walk with us, love us, and “go through” with us.
My prayer for you is that in the seasons where you need a Jeremiah (or a Eugenia or a Gray or an Anna), you will find him. And in the seasons where someone needs you to be a Jeremiah, that you will be him.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my amazing Tyndale family for believing in this story with me and helping me sharpen it into what it has become: Karen, Stephanie, Babette, and Vicky.
To Anne Christian Buchanan, my fearless and detailed editor: You took my muddled mess and helped hone it into a beautiful story. Thank you for your diligent work and thoughtful insight.
To my agent, Greg Daniel: You are a gift to any story.
To Jenny Sanford: Thank you for giving me insights into what it’s like to be a governor’s wife and to live in a governor’s mansion while raising children.
To Brenda Farris and the staff at the Nashville Rescue Mission, especially Michael Davenport, my fabulous tour guide: Thank you all for your kind hospitality to me and for the amazing work you do for our city.
To my sweet husband: Thank you for putting up with my breakdowns during deadlines, my countless words (yes, you’d think I’d be out of them by now), and my still-healing heart. You love me patiently and kindly. You are my Gray. And I thank God every day for the gift of you.
To my beautiful children: I’m glad this book is finished. And I’m glad I now know what it is to sit in a carpool line, read bedtime stories, and curl up on the sofa to watch American Idol with a group of kids I can call mine. You have made my life rich and full.
And to my heavenly Father: You may owe me nothing, but you have given me everything.
About the Author
Denise Hildreth Jones has spent the last six years writing fiction that has been hailed as both “smart and witty.” Her ability to express the heart of the Southern voice has led to her being featured twice in Southern Living and receiving the accolades of readers and reviewers alike, but it is the simple joy of writing stories that keeps them coming. Her previous books include the Savannah series, Flies on the Butter, The Will of Wisteria, Hurricanes in Paradise, and Flying Solo.
Denise makes her home in Franklin, Tennessee, with her husband, five bonus children, and two dogs. And on her days off, she will settle for a long walk or a good book and a Coca-Cola.
Visit Denise’s website at www.denisehildrethjones.com.
Discussion Questions
1. Gray and Mackenzie struggle with balancing Gray’s role as the governor—his job—and spending time together as a family. Have you ever experienced a similar struggle to balance work and family life? How did you handle it?
2. At first, Gray resents the fact that Mack gets a dog without talking to him. But later, Sophie saves him from his grief in some ways. Why do you think that is? In times of grief, have you had anything or anyone that was a lifeline for you?
3. On p. 140, in a moment of frustration, Jeremiah says, “I ain’t never understood that ’bout God. He always doin’ things that in the natural don’t make a lick a sense. And in middle a all that craziness, he go and ax us to trust him.” How would you respond to someone who asked you how to trust God even when he allows tragedy to come into our lives?
4. Mackenzie tells Gray that she thinks her pregnancy is their miracle, a gift from God since they’ve suffered so much. Do you agree with that reasoning, that God punishes and rewards us? Why or why not?
5. Even though Jeremiah doesn’t want to give Mackenzie the orchid, he feels God nudging him to do so and listens. Have you ever experienced a similar “nudging,” a feeling that you’re supposed to do something? Did you listen? What were the results?
6. How did you feel about the description of depression as “potholes in the brain”? What are your thoughts about medication versus other methods for treating depression? How much of a role do you think Eugenia’s friends play in her recovery from grief and possible depression?
7. Eugenia wonders if Mackenzie has put her grief on hold and if that will lead to postpartum depression. She reads an article that “talked about postpartum depression and how it often resulted from unresolved emotions accentuated by hormonal changes during and after pregnancy.” Have you ever experienced postpartum depression, or do you know someone who has? Do you think it can result from unresolved emotions?
8. Eugenia thinks that “if there was anything she’d learned in her years of living, it was that you couldn’t just close a door on grief. It would end up seeping through the cracks.” How can grief work differently for different people? Can grief be controlled or delayed? What might be some effects of “closing the door” on grief?
9. Near the end of the story, Jeremiah finally convinces Eugenia that what Mackenzie needs most is tough love. Did you agree with him? Have you ever had to show tough love to someone you cared about? How did you know that’s what they needed? What helped you reach out to them
in that way?
10. “Strong don’t mean lack a pain, Gov’nor. Strong mean livin’ spite of it.” Do you agree with what Jeremiah says? How have you seen this reflected in your life or the lives of those you love?
11. After Jeremiah gives Mackenzie the amaryllis, he tells Eugenia that self-pity is one of pride’s “ugliest and meanest faces.” What does he mean by that? Do you agree? How did you see that play out in the story?
12. Much of Mackenzie’s grief is a result of resentment that she let build up—anger that her life didn’t turn out as she expected, as she deserved. Reflect on your own life. Have you ever faced similar disappointments? Have you ever felt resentment against God when you expected things and didn’t get them?