My name is Beatrice Howard, please, just call me Bee. I moved to Georgia when I was twenty-three. Don’t you dare call me a Yankee. The damn war near ended almost two-hundred years ago. Why people still refer to Northerner’s as Yankee’s is beyond me.
I always wanted to ask my son-in-law, Matt, why people born in the South felt the need to still use that term. I never had the chance to ask.
Matt married my daughter Leeann and they had four children.
Oh, those kids – I just love them all so. My heart still aches remembering the day Matt died – nearly fifteen years ago. I was sixty-one back then.
Don’t you dare look at me like I’m some old biddy just because I'm seventy-six now – I like to refer to myself as being refined, not old. Call me old when I hit a-hundred. That’s how long I plan on living. Least that’s what I tell my grandbabies. But sometimes, God has his own plans.
Look at the sky today, it’s so blue. Honeysuckle – such a sweet smell. Nothing like early summer in Georgia – and summer means, lots of visitor’s. My dear Katie is coming today. She’s turning twenty-five in a few days. I have so many things planned for us to do. All my daughter’s children are incredible. Each with their own uniqueness and each having to grow up so fast.
Katie has this way, no matter what she does, she’ll look at you with those big brown eyes, and you forget why you were so mad. She just melt’s my soul. I think maybe it’s because she’s tough on the outside, and sweet on the inside. Katie was only ten when Matt died.
It was October 2nd. One of those days that should go down in your bank of memory with the rest of October seconds. However, it turned out to be one in which the date never leaves your mind. It was a glorious sort of autumn day, low seventies. All the children were here. My daughter, Leeann and I were walking down the dirt path – the path right on over there, it leads to the huge field. The sun shined through the tree’s creating a gold glow throughout the entire woods.
My oldest granddaughter Christine and my second granddaughter Elizabeth, they were walking way ahead of Katie and their brother Evan. We took our sweet time looking at all the leaves beginning to change. It just seemed as if time were in slow motion. Katie and Evan were giggling, without a care in the world.
I followed the children, as Leeann decided to head back.
As the kids and I returned up the path, that beautiful warm day turned cold. As if a blizzard blew in smacking us right in the face. At the end of the path, Leeann was kneeling over Matt, pushing on his chest, crying.
Matt’s body lay as still as the ground itself. Leeann screamed pushing on his chest, “Please don’t you take him from me! Don’t you dare take him.” She looked upward.
My husband Edward was walking toward us, his face white as new fallen snow, “I called 911.” He rubbed his head, “I don’t understand, we were just walking and he fell over.” Edward’s eyes were wide, his hands trembling.
The children were now surrounding their father, crying. Edward kneeled down and took over compressions. Matt’s skin grayed his body stiff.
My soul went frigid, “I’m taking the children to the house. Come on kids.” I didn’t know what else to do. I was so afraid for these children. All I could think of was their momma crying over their dad.
You ever feel like you’re on a boat, the water is calm, the day fair. Then all of a sudden a whale comes out of nowhere, knocks into your boat, throwing you into freezing water. Your boat is in disrepair and the water becomes white-capped. Well, this is how I felt at this very moment.
I pulled the kids away, as the sky darkened, sirens howled - as did everyone’s fears.
Christine – at sixteen. She’d stayed so calm, statuesque, “He’s going to die isn’t he?”
Elizabeth yelled, “No, he’s going to be ok. He’s ok. God wouldn’t take daddy away from us. Right grandma, right?” She looked to me for answers.
Lights flooded the living room, as night crept in. I didn’t know what the word shell-shocked meant until this very moment. What do I say? What do I do? “Let’s go upstairs.” I wanted to get them away from the lights and sounds.
We sat in a circle on my bedroom floor and I lit a candle. We held hands and prayed. When I’m left in water, in middle of an ocean, with no boat, praying is all I know.
I spoke a purposeful calm prayer, “Dear Lord, please come to Matt – to these kids daddy – please bring the right people with him to make him better. Lord, if anyone can do it, we know you can Lord. Please take care of him. Amen.”
The children looked up, all eyes wide, skin paled. My little Katie – her face wet from tears, “God will make daddy better. I know he will.” She reasoned.
Such faith in such a young person, I wish I had even an ounce of the faith that girl had. I just hugged her. Actually, we all kind of huddled, hugging each other. Then the phone rang.
I answered – Edward was on the other end. Edward always seemed like a rock. Didn’t matter if there was an earthquake, nothing seemed to move him. “Act like I’m not telling you anything important. Just nod.” His voice shook. The rock finally moved. “Leeann wants to tell them.” Edward sucked in cries, “Matt’s dead.” He let out a sob.
If my insides could get any colder, ice would be forming on my brow, Edward continued, as I walked into the other room. “I just don’t understand why Matt had to go. I just don’t understand.” He repeated and continued, “Leeann’s a wreck. I don’t know what to say to her, what to do.” Edward cleared his throat, “Um, they’re going to give her some drugs to help her. Not sure when we can leave. Just keep the kids calm. The Pastor is coming and then we’ll be there soon.”
Acting calm in a situation right now was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I outright have to lie to these children. The children wanted answers. They wanted to hear their dad was alright. I walked back into the room and all four pairs of eyes are blood shot, looking at me for these answers. As if we’ve all fallen off the boat and I have to convince them we’re still dry and afloat. .
God help me.
Elizabeth asked first, “Is he ok?”
“When will daddy be home?” Katie jumped up, clinging onto my shirt.
“Um, they don’t have any news yet.” I lied.
I made the mistake of making eye-contact with Christine. Her eyes filled with tears, and she walked out of the room. She already knew.
About an hour later lights flashed up the drive. The children jumped up and ran to the door. Leeann walked in first. My poor baby - she looked as if she’d aged twenty-years.
They all hugged Leeann, pulling at her, questioning. Hope still alive in their voices.
Katie asked first, smiling, “When’s daddy coming home?”
Tear’s fled down Leeann’s face like the Chattahoochee after a good rain, “Daddy isn’t coming home.” Leeann smoothed her hand over her daughters head.
Katie pulled backwards, “Why not?”
“He’s in heaven now,” Leeann babbled. “ Daddy didn’t make it.”
The cries that followed – a haunting hollow that rang through the house and into my soul. Lonely, cold, dark, blood curdling cries, a nightmare-one in which was real. I couldn’t understand myself. How could God take Matt? How? My daughter needed him. My grandchildren needed him. And God allowed this young man to be ripped away.
Katie yelled, “They’re wrong mom – they just misplaced daddy. Did you check the other rooms? He’s not dead. He not!” She tried to reason.
Leeann tried taking Katie into her arms and Katie pushed away, “Only old people die mom! Daddy wasn’t old, so it couldn’t have been him. You’re wrong! Maybe we should go back to the hospital and look for him. Mom, he’s not dead.” Katie kneeled shaking her head, her eyes wild, “He’s not dead, daddy’s still there. Mom, he’s ok, he is.”
Katie expressed what everyone was feeling. How could Matt be dead? He was just walking a few hours ago. Matt was joking around with Leeann. They still acted like honeymooners. It was too soon for him to leave. How were they going to get through this, how?
The next days and weeks all seem to be a blur. I just held each one of them – all hours of the day and night. Each of them asking question, I could not answer. I would just shake my head, hug them and try and give them an honest, heartfelt answer. Sometimes, I myself wanted to curse at God. Yell at him – plead with him to take me instead. OK – so I did do this. There, I said it. I was mad at God for taking Matt. I was mad at God for being that whale. The one that demolished the boat and left such large waves, I thought they would all drown. I had to be the lifesaver right now, right?
Then there were the holidays. Usually filled with happiness, they crept in like one of those relatives you wanted to disown. You had to deal with them, because it was the right thing to do. Even if you’d rather pretend you were not related.
The warmth of autumn dwindled into a record breaking crisp winter - Christmas just a few days away. Leeann and the children were on their way to spend the holidays with us. The tree decorated, presents bought. I made sure every detail was perfect. Edward even hired a Santa for Christmas Eve. It was the first bit of excitement I’d had since Matt’s death.
I even bought presents for Santa to hand out, wrapped them with special paper, and all. We tried to get something special for each of the children and Leeann. I know it’s so silly. I mean really, like Santa was going to make them all feel better. We had to do something – our very best to get through this holiday.
Santa came just as planned. He was so perfect. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was the real one. All of them smiled, there was even some laughing. It just warmed my heart. Everyone of them seemed pleased … even if it was just a little. Then I looked over at Katie. There didn’t seem to be any joy in her face. She looked like she was pouting. She walked outside onto the porch.
I followed her, “What’s wrong dear? Didn’t Santa bring you what you wanted?”
Katie crossed her arms, “No, he didn’t.”
Now I felt horrible, “Honey, Santa can’t bring people back from the dead.”
She cocked her head to the side, “I know Grandma. I asked Santa to bring me a letter. That was all I asked for. Just a letter or a little note from daddy telling me he was ok. I mean really … God couldn’t work with Santa? Hello, God can do anything and Santa has magic.” Katie sat on the porch swing, elbows on her knees and hands to her face, “God couldn’t even get me a note from daddy.” She sobbed.
Here comes more of that anger. I didn’t understand any of this either. Now I have to try and help a ten-year old understand. Why would God take their dad and why couldn’t produce one simple note? I could not answer. So, I went to the old faithful … hugging.
That night, I got onto my knees and prayed that God himself would deliver a note to Katie. I first laughed at the idea of praying from the dear Lord himself to be a mail carrier. Then I cried just asking God to make them feel joy again.
It was nice having all of them over for Christmas morning. Putting out the gift’s with Edward, like old times, when our children were little. The children were pleased to see all the presents. There was some happiness in this new routine at Grandma and Grandpa's house.
Katie even seemed somewhat pleased. She was opening her final gift.
After all the presents were unwrapped, paper everywhere, I noticed Katie was missing, “Where is Katie?”
Evan, playing with a remote car looked up, “She went for a walk.”
Leeann throwing out paper, “I can go after her, mom.”
“No, I can use a walk.” I grabbed a coat and gloves. It was one of the coldest Christmas mornings I could remember.
I went down the path, the same path that Matt died on, I knew exactly where Katie would be, the field. It’s the same place I still go to when I’m sad, or I’m happy. My footsteps crunched on the ground. Wind blew right through me. I heard a rumor that it might actually snow here. I think the last snowfall Georgia saw was 130 years ago.
I neared the end of the path and could hear Katie, she was talking and laughing. My heart raced – everyone else was in the house. Neighbors didn’t walk back here. And in this part of the country, people didn't leisurely walk when it was 30 degrees. My pace quickened.
I heard, “Will I see you again?” She was at the end of the field, by the enormous Live oak. I didn’t see anyone with her. Katie looked like she was hugging a real person; she was crying, and smiling, “Thank you so much. I’ll see you again.”
When I reached her, Katie was smiling, her cheeks red, and happiness in her eyes. She was waving.
“Katie, are you alright?”
Katie flung out a piece of paper, laughing, “It’s from daddy. Grandma, daddy had a letter sent to me.”
I was freaking out a bit, because I could actually see a note, real paper, with real words, “Um, who brought the letter, dear?” Maybe she wrote it herself and was pretending?
“Didn’t you see her? Didn’t you see Joann? She was right here. I even hugged her. Joann is the nicest girl in the world.” Katie twirled around with delight, “And daddy is ok.” Katie now held the note to her chest.
I tried to smile, wondering if I may need to see a therapist, “Can I see it?”
“Sure.” Katie almost handed it to me, but pulled it back, “Please Grandma, be very careful with it. It came from heaven and I want to keep it forever.” Katie laid it in my hand carefully.
I looked down, handwritten on ivory colored paper was,
“My Baby Bear, I’m ok - Remember how much I love you, and how much God loves you, too. One day we’ll all be together again. All my love, Daddy.”
Tears blurred my vision, I laughed out loud, it really was from Matt, the note was in his handwriting. He always wrote his “r” a particular way. And no one, not even Leeann called Katie, Baby Bear, except for Matt – it was from him. I don't know how - but it was for real.
I looked up at the sky, knowing I must be losing it because snowflakes began to fall – big billowy snowflakes. I laughed out loud.
“Grandma – it’s snowing!” Snow landed onto Katie’s hair. She through up her arms and did a dance, “Let’s go tell everyone!” Katie ran.
“How glorious!” I kept looking up at the sky, snowflakes falling into my eyes. “How glorious, indeed.”
Even though fifteen years have gone by - that day, with all its glory supersedes the ugliness of the day we lost Matt.
I’ve always heard the saying, that time heals all wounds. It doesn’t heal them – God heals them. I couldn't be the lifesave - but God was. Sometimes, scars are left and sometimes they’re still painful. With faith and belief – ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.
I still don’t understand why Matt was taken on that October day. What I can say is that my beautiful family is stronger than they have ever been. They are successful and happy, most of the time. Because, with just one simple note – faith can be restored.
Still, don’t believe me.
"Georgia Savors Rare Christmas Day Snowfall" Fox News
