Journal of a Lifetime (Journals of Love)

Copyright ©2013 Lisa Wolfe

2013 Ellechor Publishing House Edition

Journal of a Lifetime/ Wolfe, Lisa M.

ISBN: 9781937844103

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013943047

All rights reserved. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without the written permission of the Publisher. Please purchase only authorized editions. For more information, address:

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If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold” or “destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

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For Nana. I love and miss you every day.

For the one teaching me about choices and the amazing adventures that follow.

W
HEN
L
INDSEY BEGAN
her task that morning, she had no idea that the discovery she made would change the rest of her life.

She sat on the wood floor in the attic with her legs crossed beneath her skirt and rested her back against the legs of an antique armchair. The piles of things to be discarded had grown so high they kept the air circulation from reaching her, and her forehead glistened from the unusually high Michigan heat. She dabbed away the beads of sweat with a handkerchief she had found pressed into an old family Bible, and took a quick drink of lemonade before reaching into a box and retrieving the final purse.

Afraid to miss even the tiniest detail, Lindsey took great care to treat everything as a treasure. Setting the last purse in her lap, she proceeded to give it the “squeeze” before she opened it. To her surprise, she felt something inside this one, and she quickly opened the black hobo bag.

Lindsey hesitated before reaching inside for the small leather journal. Her fingers stroked the ridges in the bindings before she palmed the book and took it out. The journal was in perfect condition—as if it hadn’t been read in years.

She questioned whether or not she should be the one to open it. Four months had dragged by since Nana’s passing – Lindsey still couldn’t bring herself to say the “D” word. Lindsey’s cousins hadn’t wanted to go through Nana’s belongings, and they didn’t understand Lindsey’s desire to do so either, so Lindsey proceeded with the emotional task of sorting Nana’s belongings alone. She was hopeful, though, that it would give her the closure she needed.

With that thought in mind, she opened the journal and lovingly stroked the pages.

The pages opened easily. Various dates were written on the top of some of them, and beneath the dates were names of cities across the U.S. She paused to read one entry more closely, and then realized that this was Nana’s travel journal.

Nana had recorded the cities she visited, the restaurants she ate in, and even the types of food she ate during her journey. Lindsey chuckled when she saw the ratings for how well the entrees tasted. Nana had even included what she wore during her travels. White Keds appeared to be her favorite shoe of choice, which made Lindsey laugh even harder. She wiggled her toes inside her own white Keds, and turned the next page.

She slowed down now and skimmed over each page, taking in the details of each entry. Seeing her own name on the last page startled her. Nana had included her on a list of emergency contacts, even though at the time of the travels, Lindsey had only been sixteen years old.

Lindsey’s laughter turned to tears for the fifth time that day. She had always known that Nana had a special bond with her, and even this small gesture of a phone number was confirmation. It warmed her heart to know that her grandmother wanted to be sure Lindsey was contacted if anything had happened to her.

Lindsey closed the journal, set it in her lap, and gazed out the only window in the attic, her hand automatically reaching for the gold cross on her neck. She thought about the man who had purchased the cross, the man who had loved Nana, but never created the moment to be with her.

Their moments were only shadows, yet Adele, Nana’s given name, had worn that cross every day for fifteen years. Lindsey always thought Nana did so with the hope that she could will him to come to her. Nana was never without the cross and when she was troubled, she’d finger it just as Lindsey was doing now.

Lindsey’s heart frayed a bit more when she thought of love’s lost opportunities. She said a small prayer that Nana and her love were together now and dancing into eternity. She kissed the cross and let it rest back against her chest.

She picked up the journal again, feeling the worn leather in her hands, and lifted it to her nose. As she inhaled, she could detect a trace of Nana’s perfume, Tabu, on the tops of the pages, causing the tears to fill her eyes once again.

Determined to not cry, she held the journal to her chest for strength. She figured Nana must have forgotten about this journal. She wished she had Nana’s other journals too, but the cancer had given the woman plenty of time to rid the house of her personal items that she didn’t want others to see. Those words were collections of thoughts that Lindsey was desperate to read. Though she understood Nana’s need to keep her thoughts private, Lindsey was hopeful to find guidance into marriage, motherhood, and beyond through Nana’s experiences. She flipped through the lone journal once again, so thankful to see Nana’s handwriting at least, and to feel some connection with her.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t had time to get to know Nana before. They had spent her entire life getting to know one another. Nana always had time for her; even as a child, Lindsey spent the night with Nana, shopped, talked, and in the most recent years, discussed everything from sex to death, and Lindsey’s lack of romance at age thirty had given them plenty to talk about.

Men told Lindsey she was attractive and fun to be with, but so far, she hadn’t fallen in love. It wasn’t for lack of trying, however. She belonged to a gym, a monthly book club, a weekly church group, and even volunteered at the hospital for special events. The activities provided plenty of opportunities to meet men, but those she dated were not at a point in their lives where they were ready to make a commitment.

When Nana got sick, Lindsey removed herself from the dating scene to spend all of her time caring for her. During those three months, Lindsey hadn’t the time, the energy, or the desire to date. When the cancer progressed, Lindsey moved in with Nana and spent the last two months taking care of her. Her job as a pharmaceutical representative could be done from home with only a few days a week on the road, so she hired a nurse on those days. For the rest of the week, though, it was just the two of them.

Lindsey’s mother and aunts also took turns spending the night to give Lindsey a break sometimes. The family had vowed not to put Nana into a hospice home environment, and Lindsey was grateful that they were true to their word, Adele Jenson lived her eighty-five years to the fullest, and died peacefully surrounded by her loved ones.

After Nana’s passing, the family decided that Lindsey should continue to live in Nana’s home as compensation for the care she had provided. Lindsey had done it all out of love, and didn’t want any “compensation,” but she was concerned her family would sell the home if she didn’t stay. Nana’s home and the few belongings that remained were all she had left of her precious grandmother.

Well . . . maybe not anymore. Lindsey looked down at the journal in her hands. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. A strange one, perhaps, but it made sense. Lindsey was desperate to feel something other than grief and loneliness. What if she could create a connection to Nana through the memories in this journal? She wanted to see the same sites, walk on the same paths, and eat the same foods as Nana had. To recreate some of those special moments she had always enjoyed with her grandmother. To keep her close.

The journal started to shake and opened in Lindsey’s trembling hands as she thought about the adventure.
Could I travel by myself?
Fourteen years ago, Nana had traveled alone, and Lindsey could too, she decided. She heard her heart beat pounding in her ears, and almost missed seeing the dates in the journal.

The anniversary of Nana’s trip was two days away.

This could not be a coincidence. She didn’t believe in coincidences. To her, all things in life played a part of God’s plan. Suddenly she just knew she was right where she was meant to be.

She was about to go on the adventure of a lifetime.

H
I
S
TAN
. I
T
’
S
Lindsey.” She had worked for him for five years and was his highest producing sales person.

“Hey Lindsey. How are you?” Her boss always sounded as if he had a smile on his face. “I’m doing fine, but I have a huge favor to ask of you.” Lindsey’s free hand twirled in her curly brown hair, a habit she’d had since she was a young girl when she was nervous or stressed. She twirled and un-twirled a portion of her hair twice before she filled the silence. “I need to take next week off. And, before you ask why, I should tell you it’s personal.”

Stan’s silence concerned her, but once again, he didn’t let her down. “Lindsey, you take all the time you need, we’ll get your route covered for you. I just want to ask if you need anything. Are you in any trouble?”

“No, no. But thank you. I’ll try to fill you in when I return. Thanks again for understanding.” Lindsey was relieved.

Her favorite ring, a sapphire Nana had given her that matched her Irish eyes, suddenly tangled in her hair. “Wonderful,” she said to herself, and headed for the bathroom to untangle the mess, when the phone rang in her opposite hand.

She wasn’t surprised to see her mother’s name on the caller ID screen. Ann always had a way of knowing when her daughter was troubled, anxious, or excited about something.