worst fear was that Sarah wasnât disclosing the location of the commune out of the fear that she might have to return to this horrible place. . . keeping it as an option in case things here at the river didnât work out. Anna prayed that it would work out.
âWell, Iâm just so glad youâre here.â Anna smiled at her. âI have missed you so much these past two years. You have absolutely no idea. It was like a piece of me was gone. Can you understand that?â
Sarah seemed to soften now. âI missed you, too, Grandma.â
âAnd I have to admit that it still hurts to think you never tried to contact me . . . just to say you were alive,â Anna confessed, âbut I do understand. I know we sometimes do things that seem justified at the time . . . things we might look back on later, wondering if we couldâve done it differently.â Now Anna told Sarah a bit about how it was for her when Lauren was a small child . . . how she mightâve done it differently.
âBut I was so overwhelmed with caring for Laurenâs father. His physical injuries from the war were serious enough, and he was certainly in pain, but the wounds in his mind were the hardest part. I felt I needed to protect Lauren from his outbursts and mood swings. It seemed too much for a child to witness. For that reason, Lauren was left in the care of her Grandmother Eunice . . . far more than I would have liked. However, at the time, I didnât see any other solution.â
âIâm sure you did the best you could.â
Anna shrugged. âAfter Adam died, I stayed on with Eunice. I know it was partly because I was so worn down by the years of caring for him, almost as if Iâd lost a part of myself. I just didnât know what to do, how to start my life over again. And by then Eunice was such an enormous part of Laurenâs life, and sheâd just lost her father, it seemed cruel to take that away from Lauren as well. But, as you know, Eunice spoiled Lauren. She gave into her about everything.â She sighed. âAnd I suppose I allowed it. Oh, Iâd try to stand up to her, but it was like standing up to a tidal wave. I really shouldâve left much sooner. ButI didnât. So, to be fair, you should partially blame me for how Lauren was so immature and ill prepared for adulthood when she became your mother. It was like a child raising a child.â
Sarahâs brow creased as if she was trying to take this in.
âSometimes Iâve thought that if Iâd just had the strength to take Lauren away from there, and if Iâd brought her here to the river, back when she was still a child, I think about how everything wouldâve turned out so differently.â She sighed. âYou see how itâs easy to blame myself and feel guilty over this. But thatâs when I try to remember that I did the best I could at the time. Whatâs done is done and I simply have to trust God with the rest of it.â
âI really donât see how you could blame yourself for Laurenâs mistakes.â
âYes . . . but maybe it comes with being a mother. You always want the best for your children and your grandchildren.â Now she smiled. âBut then I have to remember that if Iâd brought Lauren out here as a child, she never wouldâve met and married Donald and then you wouldnât have been born. And that wouldâve been very sad for me. In the long run, I do think that things do turn out for the best.â
âI wish I believed that was true.â Sarah pulled the afghan up over her shoulders, shivering as if she were cold.
âMaybe you will in time.â
âI donât know.â Sarah just shook her head. âSometimes it all just seems so useless and hopeless.â The glum expression on her face reminded Anna of her own mother so many years ago.
Éric-Emmanuel Schmitt, Howard Curtis