a backwards story
Let them be a memento of the first day I came to see you and of God’s divine grace.
I shall keep them for you until such time that you can understand the story.
I picked them up, brought them home, and washed them. Never mind that we’re not Catholic, your father and grandfather being Baptist preachers.
Considering the significance of my visit, their appearing seemed a rare and holy thing.
A set of rosary beads, right there in the parking lot, with no one else in sight. Perhaps meant for a child, as the beads are plastic, mostly bright blue, with six orange, three green, and a little white crucifix.
When I left the hospital to head home, the rain had ended. The sun sparkled on the wet pavement. My heart danced with the beauty of the day, of the whole world. I stepped gingerly around puddled water shimmering with rainbow swirls, and that’s when I saw it.
Grandparents and grandchildren are a special gift to each other, especially if many years together are granted. Time to love, to live all our own stories, to always be close ’til you’re all grown up and I must go… this is my prayer.
I sat in a chair and your dad placed you in my arms. Joy and awe flooded my very soul…my cup runneth over, and over. I could have held you forever and it wouldn’t have been enough.
And there you were…so little, so perfect…I’d cried when your dad texted the first photos on the previous day. Now, seeing you with my own eyes, I could hear my grandmother’s voice, her narrative: You looked just like a little angel. And that’s exactly how you looked to me, my beautiful Micah. A heavenly being sent straight from the hands of almighty God.
Down came a gentle rainfall, spattering the windshield as I flew to the hospital that morning…once I answered the COVID questions and passed the temperature check upon arriving, I was allowed to go the room.
The end of October is a lovely time of year here in North Carolina, when the sky takes on sapphire hues. I wore a light raincoat because the meterologists predicted sprinkling.
I had to wait until the day after you were born to come see you.
You came during the pandemic. The world struggled with masks and distancing. The hospital limited visitors to two a day…and your dad counted as one.
My grandmother loved to tell me the story of my birth. I shall love telling you yours.
Me holding Micah for the first time.
*******
Composed for Day 9 of the Slice of Life Story Challenge with Two Writing Teachers
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lit bits and pieces 
What an interesting way to tell a story! I had to use self-control and not skip to the end (the beginning) first. 🙂 This is such a sweet story…and what a beautiful picture of you and Micah!
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It was fun to write, Aggie – not sure what inspired me to try it this way, maybe just a feeling that the story needed a special sort of telling. Thank you so much for these thoughts – and that photo has been my profile pic for two years. Can’t bring myself to change it yet.
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Fran, I couldn’t resist – I read it from bottom to top, backwards. The twist is fun and as unexpected as the beads in the puddle, baptized as they were, these Catholic beads in God’s hand, now story beads too, to carry through the years and for her to always have something to touch and think of that first day you held her. Precious, and flavored of favorite Franna family stories! I must tell you, too – your stories stick with readers. I remembered The Poetry Fox post and I’m working on having him on my town square in April. To beads and to foxes, who bring smiles!
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Why does this not surprise me, Kim, that you would read a backwards story backwards?? It’s testimony to your insatiable curiosity! A part of the zest for life and adventure I always sense and treasure, in you. -POETRY FOX! My school LOVES him! He cranked out a poem for everybody who stood in line; people were simply astounded. Kids were awed; their faces glowed. My assistant principal joked that if we can’t afford to have the Fox back maybe he could find a costume and fill in as, oh, Poetry Possum… so now, my friend, you have inspired me to write a post about this dreamt-up character! Stay tuned! Most of all: Thank you for your beautiful words about my Franna stories especially. That you find them memorable means the world to me. Truly ❤
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I read it and reread it..backwards. It begs to be read both ways. Such a tribute to the gifts we are given…expected and unexpected and how we weave them into our lives and the stories we tell. Beautiful in so many ways, Fran.
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Thank you so much Dawn. I tried to make sure it worked both ways, really. Thank you for reading it thus, and for this lovely response.
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what a beautiful way to revisit the joy of your grandchild’s birth. I just love the image of finding the child’s rosary in the parking lot, cleaned by the rain and shining in the sun. And I love that you are keeping it for M, even though it is from a different religion. This tells us a lot about your breadth of faith.
also that line: ‘I could have held you forever and it wouldn’t have been enough.’ That IS how I have felt too!
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Thank you, Fran – I don’t know why it’s taken two years for me to write this (!!). I so want the story preserved for her. I suppose the backwards idea may have been sparked in part from the backwards name post I did on Day 2 and the fact that I’m titling my posts by reverse alphabetical order… or maybe I’m just backwards these days! I so appreciate your thoughts, particularly re: my “breadth of faith.” I could not live without it-
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Beautifully told in both directions. Micah will hold the beads and know this story…and most likely pass that spirit forward (and back to you, I’m sure). Did you write it in the form it is now, or did you write it forwards and then rearrange? Asking for a struggling writer who tried to do something like that last month and found it a bit too challenging.
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A good technical question, Peter…do tell your, er, “struggling writer-friend” that I wrote it backwards. I created a bunch of space in the draft and wrote it from the bottom up. Then I read it from the top down to see how it flowed…I still want to tinker with it but anyway it was a really fun challenge. Not exactly sure what inspired me to do so – other than I wanted a special way of telling this particular story. You have sparked a memory for me – a palindrome poem, “I am Part of a Lost Generation.” Here’s the link – I like the reader’s voice on this particular video:
Thank you so much for your thoughts in response to the story!
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Your slice is beautiful, relatable and clever! I read it the way your wrote it and enjoyed every part. I loved many of your descriptive phrases and having experienced (eleven times!) the thrill of holding a grandchild for the first time, totally related to the powerful emotions you felt. Micah will cherish this rosary and I hope you share this story with her.
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Eleven grandchildren – exponential love! Micah is aware of the rosary, if not of its significance. It hangs on a hook of an old decorative washstand in my hallway – she sees it and frequently asks to wear the “necklace.” I so look forward to all our storytelling and story-making. Thank you so much for your lovely and meaningful words, Rita.
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My mind goes in so many places and directions as I read this, Fran! I think ahead to the future, when beads and story are conferred. I think back to the before-story story of whoever had this rosary: where did they carry it? Did they use it often, as a comfort and support, or as a guess-I-need-this accessory?
And smack dab right to the middle, to the moment when you found the rosary, sparkling in the after-rain light.
Beautiful.
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I have wondered about whomever lost the rosary, Lainie, and felt bad for them – were they visiting someone terminally ill? Did these beads belong to a sick child, or one with a sick family member? Were they given to some other newborn? At any rate, it’s such an extraordinary thing to find on such a day. Thank you for your sparkling and lively thoughts – always!
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I love how you used this backward story to tell of Micah’s birth. So heartfelt like only a grandmother could tell! She was so small!
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This was a first for me, reading a post backwards. It reminded me a bit of what I used to have students do to proofread their own writing for spelling and grammatical errors; they’re easier to spot when you don’t have the normal flow of beginning-middle-end of the story (not that your writing has any!). I was hooked by the title, knowing Catholicism isn’t your family’s religious practice, and rosaries being a part of my upbringing–a tradition I still practice from time to time, when I’m in need of contemplative prayer. I love that you’re saving it as a memento of the blessed day you joyfully described.
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Chris, that’s a great technique for helping student writers catch their errors. Reading the writing aloud is key, too – my colleagues and I will sometimes read our emails aloud to each other before sending, just to be sure of clarity and flow. The rosary beads – I was stunned to find them in that moment, on that day; they seemed a special gift. Micah is aware of them, for they hang from a hook on her great-grandmother’s washstand which stands in my hallway. She will ask to wear the “necklace” from time to time and I let her. One day she will be old enough for the story – I hope she’ll treasure it.
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Fran, the beautiful beaming picture of you with Micah tells so much of this story. The sweet plastic rosary beads you found are a lovely memento of the special day you got to meet her.
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It was one of my life’s happiest days, Denise – thank you for your words.
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Another fun way to write a slice. It must have been so exciting for you in the midst of the pandemic, although sad that you couldn’t get to the hospital straight away. A grandchild is always worth the wait! I especially love the paragraph where you head home and find the rosary. What a find! So simple yet so meaningful. What a story to tell!
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Even in hard times (the pandemic), there is rejoicing (the birth of a child). The colorful rosary seemed an important reminder of prayer and God’s presence. I knew in that instant I’d keep the beads for Micah.
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Fran, from the very beginning of your slice to the ending photo of you and Micah, I was riveted to every word. Your manner of unfolding a story is always artful. The Lord brought the rosary to you for your sweet little grandgirl. I grew up with rosary beads in my life. May your family be blessed.
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Thank you for your grace-filled words, Carol – they’re always a treasure to me.
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