Her Christmas Legacy

Someday

I approached him, nearly knocking over a few of his classmates in the process. This sadly earned me some scrutiny from him. A couple of his friends even lingered behind him when they saw the puzzled expression on his face and the odd woman trembling in front of him. But I couldn't be distracted. I had to do this. This may very well have been the one and only time I would ever see my nephew with my own eyes. The thought of that alone was enough to tempt my tears and his friends asked if they should go get Norma, but at the sound of her name I begged them not to and told Jack I was his Aunt Gina.

At this, he groaned and told his friends to go on ahead without him. It was clear by the way he crossed his arms and kept his eyes from mine that Norma had poisoned him against me. It wasn't much of a surprise, but it still rubbed salt in the wound she made in me... no, the one I made in myself so many years ago.

I told him I was so proud of him for finishing school and I wanted to know what he was going to do with his life. He told me he shouldn't be talking to me and that I should leave before his mom found out. My breath got quick, and I felt lightheaded. My nails almost tore holes through his card.

I told him I loved his father so much and that I should have been there. There's no going back though, no matter how much I wish for it. All we've got is now and at least now I was there. And I wanted to keep being there for him. I'm not sure he understood or appreciated my words, but it didn't matter. I said what I needed to say. So then I shoved the card into his hand, begging him to take it. I told him I wanted to help with his schooling and that he should use it at college. He warmed up a little to this and finally looked at me proper. I think he was about to say thank you when Norma appeared out of nowhere and snatched the card from his hand.

She tried to hand it back to me, but when I begged her not to do it, she simply dropped it on the ground and said that Jack didn't need my help to succeed, that he can reach his dreams on his own. I reminded her that's what I did and to look where it got me. That at least got her to hesitate, but she still wrapped her arm around Jack's shoulders and turned away.

She told me with Jack it's different. That Jack would not abandon her or his family. They started to walk back to the school and I could no longer keep the tears from tearing apart my voice. I called to them, telling them I was sorry, that I screwed up. When she said she didn't care, anger slipped in and I called her a hypocrite. I asked her what she was teaching him by abandoning me now.

She didn't answer. She just kept walking. I think Jack may have looked back one last time, but at that point, I couldn't see past the tears and I'd fallen to my knees. I sat there in the grass crying, staring at the discarded envelope with the money I had saved up for years. Eventually, the photographer finished packing her things and came over to help me back up. She bought me a coffee, and I told her everything. Her name was Eileen, and she said my mistake came from youth, not malice. She said she would have forgiven me, but she isn't as close to it as Norma is.

Eileen wished me well, hoping I might find forgiveness someday. I know I'll never be forgiven, but Norma could have at least accepted my help.

I put the money away. I won't ever spend it. It's not my money. It will always be Jack's. Someday he'll get it.

Someday.

I closed the book, unable to turn the page and read the next entry. I felt torn between sorrow and anger. My grandmother hammered into me the ideals of patience and understanding. I was to offer kindness when I could and gratitude for what I had. My disposition is admittedly strong willed—something I was starting to see I got from her—but she always reminded me to take a step back, to breathe, and to approach the unpleasant interactions in my life with a level voice and an open mind. I may have been slipping in the years since she left me, but that didn't change the image of her I carried within me. I didn't understand how the woman that raised me was also this hateful person.

I needed to step away and, as if my prayers were heard, the doorbell chimed, recalling me to the present. I learned a long time ago that no good comes in dwelling on the past. I opened the desk drawer and placed the journal inside before heading down to see who awaited me.