Lost Hope

“Could life go any more wrong?”

That is what I thought to myself as I sat in the chair across from my grandfather’s hospital bed. There I was watching his life slip away as his body was devoured by sepsis. His once smooth ebony chocolate skin was now a gray-scaled leather. My thoughts continuously drowned out by the beeping of his heart monitor machine and inconsistent heartbeat. He mustered up enough strength to beckon me over to his bedside with his pointing finger. I quickly wiped the tears away from eyes and walked towards him. As I leaned in closer to hear his whispers, he slowly placed his hand over mine.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I will always provide for you. When I get out of here I am going to win the lottery for you, and you’ll never have to worry about anything again, I promise”. At the conclusion of that last word, my grandfather slipped away into cardiac arrest, never to awake again.

He was a simple man, but a hard worker. With only an elementary education, he remained loyal to the same employer for over 35 years making minimum wage. He thankfully had enough saved away to cover the exact costs of his funeral arrangements. His job, a local luxury hotel thanked his many years of service, by sending over a cold sandwich platter to the repast and placing a now hiring bulletin on the local job search site the same week of his passing.

My broken heart and devastated spirit was quickly brought back to reality, as I realized that my one point of relief, the physical embodiment of my protector was no longer here. I now had to return home and deal with this loss while simultaneously dealing with the dark energy of my abusive partner. A lightening bolt of fear struck me as I now realized that I had no escape. All at once life was crashing down around me. I had just been fired from my job the Monday of the week prior, and now my grandfather was gone.

I was alone in a world without financial resources, or emotional support. I had a newborn boy at home to take care of, and an abusive partner who I needed to escape from with my life in tact. What in the world do I do?

“Father God, please send me a miracle, my back is against the wall and I am running out of options,” I proclaimed.

The week quickly passed me by with the entire funeral planning activities. Although surrounded by unfortunate circumstances, the planning offered me a reasonable excuse to not be in the same home as my partner who looked for every opportunity to hurt me. I knew that I would reunite with my deceased grandfather sooner than later if my newborn and I did not escape from him.

I planned to run the Tuesday after my grandfather’s funeral. The workdays were long for my fiancé and I would be able to get a reasonable lead before his return home. With only $1,000 of stashed hidden funds to my name, I packed the bare minimum of necessities and filled my car only with what it would hold. I grabbed my son ran down the three flights stairs in my apartment complex as quickly as possible, fearful that the neighbors would notice my fleeing and report to my fiancé.

Before leaving town, I had one last stop to make, my grandfathers freshly buried gravesite. I pulled up alongside the burial ground to pay my last respects to a man, the only person who had genuinely loved me and that had raised me from birth.

“Grandfather, you’re gone, but now I too must go. I am not sure when or where we will see each other again, but I will always love you. You are always in my heart. Thank you for your many years of love and sacrifice. Please watch over me and my son on our journey as our guardian angel."

As I turned to walk back to my vehicle, I noticed a small box leaning on the back of the temporary nameplate for my grandfather. Odd, but intriguing I picked it up and looked inside. To my utter surprise 4 freshly crisped bands of $5,000 totaling $20,000 and a little black notebook?!!

Trembling, I opened the notebook and clear as day in very familiar handwriting, were the words: “I told you babygirl that I would always provide for you.”

"Grandpa? "