I just sit in my truck, not ready to turn it on and drive away yet. There’s an unseasonably cool breeze coming through my window that feels good. So I just sit while my mind wanders to thoughts of my grandpa, especially after telling the story to Charlie last night. I know my grandpa hadn’t chosen to die,yet I still felt betrayed by his passing, and I’m suddenly wondering how my grandma felt about it.
It’s been fourteen years, and to my knowledge, she’s never even dated anyone else. We are probably pretty similar—we both got burned and learned. But she’s managed to keep from putting herself into that position again, and I am failing at doing the same thing. Right now, I need to talk to someone who understands exactly how I feel, and who can tell me how to just step away from Charlie.
So I pull out my phone and call her. When she answers, I say, “Hi, Gram. Are you busy?”
“Well, I was halfway through organizing my spice drawer alphabetically, but for you, kiddo, I can pause the thrilling saga of ‘tumeric vs. turmeric.’ What’s on your mind?”
“I just… want to talk. About life.”
I hear a squeak that tells me that she’s stopped doing whatever she’s doing and is settling into her favorite chair. “I’m ready. Tell me everything.”
“There’s a woman who lives next to me. We haven’t started dating yet, but it’s heading that way. Her name is Charlie, and I like her. A lot. And I know I shouldn’t, because, well, you know how it is from losing Grandpa. Every time I get close to something I care about, it disappears.”
“Ah. The old ‘love-is-a-trapdoor’ fear.Runs in the family. Just like our stubborn knees and unreasonably high standards for cinnamon rolls.”
“I’m serious, Gram. I just watched a high school football team practice, and it hit me again how fast something can be gone. Football. Grandpa. And so many other things along the way. They all just left. And even though I’ve had a lot of experience with that, I still haven’t figured out how to avoid that kind of loss again.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t avoid grief by avoiding joy. That’s like refusing hot cocoa because it might burn your tongue. Sure, it might. But it’s also warm and sweet and might have marshmallows.”
“The problem is, Charlie is the hot cocoa, and I’m really pulled to the hot cocoa. She’s kind. Funny. Bright. I feel like I come alive when I’m with her. But I’ve had my tongue burned pretty badly before. I’m not looking to do it again.”
“Owen, listen to me. If something lights you up, you don’t run from it. You follow it. You chase it down like the ice cream truck on a ninety-degree day.”
I exhale a breath through a laugh. “That’s the mostyouthing you’ve ever said.”
“I haven’t even warmed up yet.”
I look out over the field, watching kids running drills like they’re indestructible. “But what if I lose her?”
“Oh, honey, you’re going to lose a lot of things inlife. Socks. Your favorite pen, over and over. Your ability to eat a plate full of tacos without consequences. People you love, absolutely. But let me tell you something. I spent forty-four years waking up next to the love of my life, and even though he’s not here now, he’s still in every part of this life I’ve built. And I’d rather have forty-four years and this heartache than zero years and a nice, quiet, unbroken heart that never really beat.”
I’m silent for a long moment, just taking all that in. And Gram doesn’t feel the need to break the silence before I’m ready. Eventually, I say in a quiet voice, “I miss him.”
“I know, sweetheart. So do I. And he was worth every tear. Still is.” She pauses, then adds, “Listen to me, Owen. If love didn’t come with risk, it wouldn’t be nearly as rare or beautiful. You want a guarantee? Buy a blender. You want a life that matters? Pick the people who make your soul light up and go all in.”
“And what if things with Charlie don’t work out?”
“Then we throw a ‘well-that-was-a-learning-experience’ party, serve bad fondue, and move on. But you don’t quit before the first dance just because you’re scared the music might end.” She pauses a moment, then says, “Let me ask you something—if you’d have known when you were a little boy how much it would hurt to lose your grandpa, would you have chosen not to love him and spendtime with him?”
“No. Never.”
“And that’s how you know. If you look at Charlie and think, ‘Even if I lose this someday, I’ll still be glad I had it,’ then don’t waste your time trying to walk away. Love her with everything you’ve got.”
I find myself smiling. “You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Say something slightly ridiculous and then hit me with the truth like a freight train.”
I can hear the grin in my grandma’s voice as she says, “That’s because ‘ridiculous’ is the sugar that makes the truth go down smooth. Now go after that woman, Owen, and do it fully committed. You don’t need a guarantee. You just need your heart, your courage, and freshly brushed teeth.”
I chuckle. “I love you, Gram.”
“I love you more, kiddo. Oh, and Owen? Thank you for understanding how important The Shadowridge was to me and your grandpa. He’d be so proud of you to know what you’re doing with the place. I know I am.”
I get a little choked up but still manage to say, “Thank you. The Shadowridge is important to me, too.”
“And I expect a full report about you and Charlie. Preferably over cocoa.”
