A Tale Of Choice

The Fergusons had arrived at the Portland International Airport with the children expecting to meet Mrs. Jeremiah Madison, “Grammy” the children called her, at the gate. Grammy was going to have everyone stay with her that night in her small home in the Portland suburbs and Shelly was looking forward to helping her settle the children into their new home before their necessary goodbyes. How she dreaded the thought of saying those words, but it must be done.

  Yet, she was looking forward to going home too – home - the word invoked a yearning in her heart for the safety, security, and familiarity of her dwelling place. Of Jim by her side, her soft bed, her cat, and familiar things around her, of having her old life back. But could she get it back? Probably not… at least not in the same way it had been, for she wasn’t the same.

  As they exited the aircraft into the terminal, Grammy wasn’t there. They waited with what little luggage they had. She did not appear. Her name was called over the intercom system and they waited. Maybe she was confused and had gone to the baggage area looking for them, but she wasn’t there either. Hours went by, phone calls went unanswered, and worry took root on what could have happened to her. They took a taxi to Alice Madison’s home, and found it deserted. Concerned turned into anxiety and the police were called. Eventually, she was found at the local hospital.

  The children’s grandmother had experience a stroke while they were returning from Kenya. The loss of her son and daughter-in-law to war, along with the thought of raising her grandchildren alone, had taken an exacting toll on her. Through grief and stress the immobilizing catastrophe had come.

 

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