Letting Go (Triple Eight Ranch) - By Mary Beth Lee Page 0,39
basket by the sink where she’d left them for Momma. Wild daisies Momma had clipped graced the table in a mason jar turned vase. A dirty cup with a photo of Prince William and Princess Kate kissing after their wedding sat on the cabinet top near the coffee pot. Momma’s morning coffee. So much better a habit than the morning shot of whiskey had been.
Clarissa stifled a sob and trudged up the stairs to the room her mother had slept in. No sense putting this off. It sure wasn’t going to get easier.
Taking a deep breath she pushed the door open. She’d thought she’d find some essence of her mother, some bit of spirit here in the room she’d lived in for such a short time, but the room wasn’t any different than it had been before.
Except that wasn’t quite right.
A mason jar of flowers sat on the window sill and a moleskin notebook sat beside the bed, a pen beside it, a bible there also.
Clarissa sat on the bed and opened the bible. Underlined verses showed someone used the bible regularly. Surely not Tammy Jo. The ranch hands might have spoken of her mother as someone completely different than the Tammy she knew, but no way had she gone christian. Not without a master plot in mind.
Clarissa wiped away the tears falling freely now and opened the journal.
Forgiveness. The word repeated again and again on three full pages of the journal.
I’ve got to forgive myself. I’ve got to quit limiting the grace of God. I’ve got to pray and ask for God’s help in this. I’ve got to forgive myself and accept that God already has. I’ve got to trust that God will heal my relationship with Clarissa. That He has the answers I can’t begin to understand.
Oh, Momma.
Clarissa cried even more as she read on. Her mother’s tortured soul so transparent on the pages of the journal. Her fight to change. Her dedication to a different kind of life. And all of the pages dotted with bible verses.
Luke 7:47-48 were favorites.
Clarissa picked up the bible, turned to the passage.
“Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven–for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
The passage was underlined in red, blue and black ink. In the margins, Clarissa ran her hands over her mother’s words. I’m forgiven.
She knew then, understood, her mother had truly changed. And now it was too late to show her she knew.
Clarissa wiped away more tears, picked up her mother’s pillow and inhaled the scent. That alone should’ve proven the change. No tobacco and heavy perfume. Only the soft earthy smell of someone who spent all her time outdoors.
Clarissa turned back to the journal and continued reading until she made it to the last page her mother had written in.
The entry was about her. About their past, about how Clarissa couldn’t see the change yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.
Clarissa closed the journal and cried out to the God her mother believed in.
How could you take her away before I knew? How could you?
Silence served as the only answer…like always.
The next morning, Clarissa woke to puffy, sore eyes. It reminded her of how she’d cried herself to sleep so often as a child when she and Tammy Jo would skip out of town in the middle of the night and she’d lose her friends and all sense of normalcy.
Tammy Jo had been a lousy mother. And God forgave her.
Clarissa wasn’t sure what she thought about that.
Starting a pot of coffee, she looked out the window at the green fields that seemed to go on forever. The Dillon’s house sparkled in the morning sunlight. The dogs ran along the gravel road from there to the bunkhouse. Chasing…she shielded her eyes to see better…Mackenzie.
Clarissa’s heart warmed, and she opened the door to wait.
When Mackenzie got to the house, she held out the basket she was carrying. A tiny orange and white kitten lay curled up on the bottom. Sleeping despite the trip.
“I asked and Gramps said I can give her to you. You don’t have to keep her forever.”
Clarissa took the basket, and Mackenzie flew to her side to hug her tight. “I’m sorry ‘bout your Momma,” she said, and Clarissa swallowed a lump of sorrow.
“It’s okay. She was real sick.”
“Now you’ll feel better,” Mackenzie said as she picked up the cat and handed the ball of