Wisdom Seeds

by Patrice Johnson

  Friday was a clerical day so I left early to get ready for our trip to North Carolina. After my overnight bag was packed, I laid down and left a message for Sheila to call me when she got in.

  The phone woke me. It was twenty after eight.

  “Dani!” I could tell by Sheila’s voice that something was wrong. “Dani, get up.”

  “What’s the matter?” I suddenly had a sick feeling in my stomach. “Sheila, what’s the matter?”

  “Syd just called. She’s at a hospital in Durham.”

  “Is she okay? Did something happen to Josh?”

  Sheila spoke slowly. “It’s not Sydney, it’s Sylvester. He was in a car accident.”

  “What? He did what?”

  “He was in a car accident on 85 and it doesn’t look good.”

  “Does Josh know?”

  “Yeah.”

  My mind raced. “Where’s Josh? Was Syd with him when he crashed?”

  “Josh is on his way to Raleigh. Syd wasn’t with Sylvester. The state troopers found her name and number in his wallet and called her.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s just scared and confused. They told her it didn’t look good when they took him to surgery.”

  “I’m on my way over.”

  Sheila was standing in the door when I pulled into the driveway.

  “He’s gone.” Sheila announced as I got out of my car.

  “What do you mean gone? He’s dead?” My mind didn’t want to believe I had heard her correctly.

  She shook her head yes and Shae began to cry. I held them both and we stood in the doorway and cried together.

  15

  The funeral was scheduled for Thursday at eleven o’clock in Harrisburg. Sheila and Shae left on Tuesday to meet Syd and Josh. I didn’t leave until Wednesday. There was no need to go to the wake, but I planned to attend the funeral for Josh. Andrea thought it was a horrible idea for me to drive by myself. It was only three hours and I assured her I would be fine.

  I packed Josh’s navy suit and a pair of his dress shoes not knowing if he had thought of taking something to wear to the funeral. I also took my raincoat and umbrella. It always seemed to rain at funerals.

  Sheila’s directions to the Crown Plaza were perfect and I arrived before eight o’clock on Wednesday night. Almost four weeks had passed since the last time I had spoken to Josh. Fear gripped me as I walked down the hall to our room. I was relieved and angered when Josh wasn’t in the room. His bags were untouched. I called Sheila’s room. No answer.

  I sat nervously on the bed, staring out the window at the navy blue sky. There was a knock at the door. Tears swelled in my eyes at the anticipation of finally seeing Josh. It was Sheila.

  “Hey girl.” Sheila looked tired. “How was the drive?”

  “It was okay,” I said hugging her. “Where’s Josh?” Sheila sat on the bed. “Now don’t get upset.”

  “Upset about what?” I was standing in front of her with my arms crossed.

  “The kids stayed at the house with Sylvester's mother.”

  “Josh too?”

  “All the grandchildren.”

  “Josh doesn’t know them.”

  “He knows them now. And, they obviously knew about him.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. “Josh asked me to bring his clothes to the house in the morning.” She paused. “I said I would.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed fighting back tears. “He hates me, doesn’t he?”

  Sheila’s voice was tired. “He doesn’t hate you. This is a lot to deal with.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. The skeletons in the closet were now tormenting me and I had no idea how to make them stop.

  “Let me jump in the shower and I’ll be back,” Sheila said heading for the door. “I’ve been in these clothes all day.”

  A shower seemed like a good idea. I stood in the shower and cried until my eyes hurt.

  The church was only twenty minutes from the hotel. I left early enough to get an aisle seat before the family came in. I needed to make eye contact with Josh. His avoidance was heart wrenching as well as irritating.

  The funeral director was hurrying people to get a final view of Greg before the family came in and I declined, going straight to a seat instead. The obituary listed Josh as Joshua Allen Henderson and I was immediately angered. They had no right to pretend he was a member of their family! They did not know him. And his last name was Singleton, not Henderson.

  My anger dissipated as the family processional began. I couldn’t see many faces because most of their heads were down. Josh walked with Sheila and the girls. He was too far away for me to grab his arm. Sheila pointed me out and he waved. Then he walked down the aisle with the family and sat on the other side of Sydney. Everyone probably thought Sheila was his mother.

  After the family was seated, the funeral director began preparation to close the casket. A thunder of wailing echoed in the church. Josh’s head was down and I could tell he was crying. I didn’t want him to weep for Greg. I had cried enough tears for both of us after Greg discarded us.

  Sheila held her girls close and it appeared she was crying, too. In fact, most of the people attending the funeral were crying. The numerous accolades of what a great person Greg had been were nauseating. I asked God to help me forgive him and not hate him. I wanted Greg to be the scapegoat for the mess I was in even though my secret was the cause of my predicament.

  “Please God,” I prayed, “help me to know what to say to Josh. Heal his heart and his hurts. Touch his heart and make him forgive me.”

  There was that forgiveness again. I was face to face with being forgiving as I was seeking forgiveness. No other examples were needed – it was clear, too clear.

  The pastor concluded the funeral by asking Greg’s children to stand. Joshua stood with Sydney and Shae.

  “Although your father is no longer here with you, he is here with you,” he said putting his hand over his heart. “Remember him in what you do, in how you act, in how you carry out his legacy. People will remember him when they see you. What will you have them remember?”

  The pastor motioned for the children to sit down. Joshua remained standing and I was afraid he would attempt to say something. He had stood in that very same place and received a similar charge when Jason died. Josh sat down slowly and buried his face in his hands. I cried, too. For Josh, not for Greg. This was the second time I had been unable to comfort him in his grief.

  I was one of the last cars in the funeral procession and that was okay. I had no intention of going to the gravesite and didn’t want anyone staring at me trying to figure out who I was. As I parked along the dirt road in the cemetery I could hear the singing even with the windows up. I felt numb. ‘If His Eye Is On The Spa-a-a-rrow, then I know, He is watching –o-o-over me’ - that was Nana’s favorite song. “God,” I sighed, “I don’t feel like you’re watching me right now and I need you. I can’t do this anymore.”

  My stomach knotted as my eyes followed Joshua moving through the crowd. He walked to the front row and stood next to the grandmother he had only known for two days. Joshua reached over and held her hand during the prayer.

  Staring at the faces of those around the casket, I easily identified Greg’s brother – they looked just alike. His sisters resembled their mother. I had avoided all of them at the church. What was there to say?

  Joshua stood facing the casket with his back to me. I knew he really didn’t hate me, he was just angry. My dad had been right, my secret had come back to haunt me. The whispers in my shadows were now screaming. Joshua had had the best of everything, including memories of a loving father. Jason loved him. Greg left him – and me. The moment felt fanatical. I attempted to get out of the car for air, but the door was too heavy. I let the window down and let myself sink down in the seat.

  ‘I have planted seeds of wisdom in you.’ Nana’s words resonated in my head. What had I learned? Life hurts. I hadn’t learned that from wisdom, I learned that from pain
. The sparrow had fallen and I wasn’t sure God was watching.

  “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,” the undertaker announced in his deep monotone voice.

  Joshua picked up a flower and turned to hug Sheila. As he walked toward me I wanted to run to him. I wanted to hold him and tell him how sorry I was for keeping the secret. I needed him to understand that I did what I thought was best. Holding back tears behind my sunglasses I tried to make eye contact as he stood at the car door. Josh deliberately avoided making eye contact with me as he announced, “I’m going to ride back to the church with Ms. Sheila. I’ll meet you at the hotel later.”

  All I could do was nod my head because I wanted to say, ‘hell no, you’re coming with me.’ His words were suffocating and I was unable to speak.

  Sheila put her hand on the window as it was going up. “It’ll be all right.” Her eyes were red and swollen. “I’ll call your room later. Gotta go do this family thing right now.”

  The funeral procession was backed up and I got stuck at the gate. I regretted having let the silver car get in front of me. My tissues fell on the floor and when I reached down to get them there was a knock on the window.

  “Mom, I’m sorry.” Josh was crying uncontrollably. “I’m sorry. This hurts so bad. Why does everyone die?”

  He was leaning on the passenger side of the car with his hand on the window. I don’t remember shifting into park, or getting out of the car. Josh hadn’t cried when Jason died, or when my dad died. He had tried so hard to be strong for me and now it was my turn to be strong for him.

  “It’s okay,” I said as I held my son and let him cry. “I know it hurts.”

  Josh attempted to speak. His words were marred by grief and I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Holding him reassured me that he didn’t hate me. If I had magical powers I would have transferred his grief to me by osmosis. I couldn’t, so I just held him.

  Sheila and the girls joined us and we all hugged and cried. Then the woman in the black hat came and stood behind Josh.

  “Joshua,” she said with a deep southern accent. “Is this your mama?”

  Josh shook his head and I looked up to see her face beneath the veil.

  “I’m Danielle Singleton.” I extended my hand to shake hers.

  She held my hand tightly and I noticed the tears falling beneath the black netting. “All I can say is I’m sorry. You have every right to be angry, but I would ask you not to. Today is sad enough by itself and I would hope that tomorrow we could all start over with the new day. I was hoping you would join the family for dinner so we could talk.”

  Although Mrs. Henderson appeared to be sincere, I declined. Josh needed me. I scribbled my home phone number on the back of the funeral program and gave it to her. “Please call me when you can,” I said giving her a hug. Josh hugged her, too, and thanked her. I hugged Sheila and the girls and told them I would see them back at the hotel.

  After everyone returned to their cars, Josh got in the car with me. His eyes were blood red. “Mom, how come you didn’t tell me?”

  I exhaled slowly. “Sometimes when you don’t know what to do, you do the wrong thing and you think it’s the right thing.”

  Josh didn’t respond.

  “I was young and gullible when I met Greg, I mean Sylvester. I thought he loved me and wanted to marry me. When he dumped me after I got pregnant I was devastated. I didn’t know what I was going to do, or what I was going to tell you. Then Jason came along. It was much easier to say he was your father so that’s what I did.”

  “I read the letter you sent me.” He responded, still looking at his lap. “You both should have told me when I was old enough to understand.”

  “I’m sorry Josh. You’re right, we should have told you. Jason wanted to tell you when you were ten. I begged him not to. It’s really my fault.”

  “Did my father ever want to see me?”

  “He never called.”

  “Would you have let him see me?”

  “I don’t know Josh.” I answered honestly. “I guess I would have.”

  We rode in silence to the hotel.

  Josh and I were up at seven to have breakfast before going to the airport. His plane was leaving at ten forty-five and I was getting on the road after I took him to the airport. I called Sheila to let her know I was leaving and to thank her. Whatever she said to Josh got through to him when I couldn’t.

  “So now what?” Josh asked as he checked his bag at the curb. “What do I do with my feelings?”

  “I wish I had the answers Josh. I don’t. But I am very sorry I created this mess.”

  We took our time walking through the airport. Josh’s plane wasn’t leaving for another hour.

  “I don’t even know what to say to Syd,” he said breaking the silence.

  “Did you get a chance to talk before the funeral?”

  “No, not really. She was crying the whole time.”

  “How do you feel about her?”

  “She’s like my best friend, I think I love her. I told her everything about me.”

  I bit my lip refusing to cry, again.

  “I guess it’s okay to love my sister.” Josh faked a smile.

  We found two seats by the window in the waiting area.

  “Josh.” I took his hand. “We’re going to need to talk to someone.”

  “You mean like a counselor?”

  “Yeah,” I squeezed his hand. “I’ll look for a family therapist. Maybe we can get two or three sessions in while you’re home for Christmas.”

  He pulled his ticket from his jacket pocket. “Syd should probably come, too.”

  “I’ll talk to Sheila about that tomorrow.”

  As we waited for his plane to begin boarding, I studied my child’s face. His eyebrows meeting, his jaw tight, and the sighing – he had all of Jason’s mannerisms.

  He hugged me before boarding the plane. “I love you Mom.”

  “I love you, too!”

  When he got to the door, he turned and said, “I’m not mad,” and he smiled. Then he blew me a kiss.

  While driving back to Pittsburgh it was easy to admit that my need to make things look ‘right’ defined me. After my brothers disappointed my parents, I tried to be the perfect daughter. Noah messed up in school, so I did my best to be honor student. Joey never participated in church like my dad wanted him to, so I did. Everyone thought I had the perfect family, so I went along with the façade. The most important thing was making other people proud of me and perpetrating the image of perfection. My needs were secondary. My inability to face the fact that I messed up led to this secret, and I realized that a skeleton had dictated my entire adult life. I hurt a lot of people. “God,” I sighed out loud. “Please help everyone I’ve hurt forgive me.”

  I stopped in Breezewood just as I had done countless times before.

  There were four messages from Andrea and I called her before taking my coat off.

  “What’s up?” I asked trying to hide the exhaustion in my voice. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, girl, I’m calling to check on you. I thought you would have been back hours ago.”

  “I waited at the airport with Josh.”

  “How is he?”

  “I’m not sure the shock of it all has settled. Please tell Harvey to ask the Salvation Soldiers to pray for him.”

  I declined Andrea’s dinner invitation and promised to meet her at church on Sunday. Then I called Sheila and left a message for her to call me when she got home. I was worried about Syd and wanted to make sure she was okay. I also wanted to see how she felt about all of us going to some type of therapy over the Christmas break.

  Josh decided to spend Thanksgiving in North Carolina with Alicia’s family. A part of me wanted to demand that he come home – a bigger part of me respected his wishes and acknowledged his efforts to grow up. He assured me that he wasn’t angry and that he just wanted to get his head together.

  Although Josh wanted me to, I didn’t have th
e answers. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t know what was going to happen. For the first time I was okay with not having control and not feeling the need to fix everything. There was nothing I could do to change the situation and I was content to wait on God to work things out.

  I called the Singleton’s to let them know Josh and I would not be coming for Thanksgiving.

  Andrea was having Thanksgiving with Harvey’s family and Sheila and the girls were having Thanksgiving with Doug’s family. Joey invited me to join them in Virginia so I could see their new house. I took a rain check because I couldn’t remember the last time I had spent time with myself.

  I started Thanksgiving Day thanking God. This thing called life had not been easy. It took me through twists and turns and had left multiple scars and bruises, but I was still standing. In spite of all the obstacles, I was still here. “Thank you Lord,” I said out loud, “thank you for everything. Thank you for keeping me sane when I thought I was losing my mind. Thank you for caring about me when I didn’t even like myself. Thank you for giving me Grandma Ida, Jason and Josh and family and friends. Thank you for putting people in my life who love me.” The tears dutifully made tracks down my face. These were not sad tears, they were happy tears and thankful tears. I felt free. The secret was no longer in control.

  “When God sets you free, you’re really free,” I could hear Nana saying. The wisdom seeds she planted were finally beginning to bloom. The weeds were finally being eradicated.

  It was a brisk Saturday morning and only a few orange and yellow leaves were clinging to the branches of the trees on Sonny Street. Most of the leaves were now lining the street or piled in my yard. I took a deep breath and blew the air so I could see it. It felt good to be alive.

  The Women’s Ministry was having a potluck breakfast before our Book Club meeting and I baked a dozen carrot muffins using Nana’s recipe. I had known for a month that we would be discussing The Princess Within but I had put off reading it. I hadn’t felt much like a princess; she had gotten lost somewhere along the way and was just now ready to make a come back. Even if my life didn’t have a fairy tale ending, even if the prince never came on the white horse and I didn’t get to live in the castle - I was going to be okay.