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Dalia grabbed the mail from her mailbox, her arms full of papers to grade over the weekend.  As she absent-mindedly glanced at the few pieces in her hand, her heart stopped. She nearly dropped everything she was carrying. That handwriting. She would recognize it anywhere; she would recognize it if she lived to be 130 years old. Her Nana’s handwriting was beautiful and had curves that only she could produce in her cursive writing. This was impossible, her Nana had died two years prior during open heart surgery. She was only 72, but heart disease ran in the family and despite her healthy lifestyle, she was taken too soon from complications during her quadruple bypass. It had been the saddest day of Dalia’s life. Her Nana raised her after her mom walked out of her life. Dalia’s mother had been a teenage mom that didn’t know how to be a mom. She never told anyone who the father was and when Dalia was 3 years old, Susan, her birth mother walked out and never looked back. They never heard from her again, despite their constant prayers for her to return.

Dalia ran into the house, stroked her cat’s head as she sat on the chair in the foyer, and looked at the letter. It was post-dated just 2 days prior and Dalia was dumbfounded. Her hands were shaking as she opened the letter. The letter was dated a month prior to Nana’s surgery and as Dalia read the words her grandmother wrote, tears streamed down her face. “Dear Dalia; my sweet little flower”. Nana used to call her that even though the flower was spelled Dahlia.  “It is the month before my surgery, and I know you are worried about the outcome. Please be at peace with whatever the outcome is; I am. You know I am a woman of great faith, and our good Lord will do with my life what He chooses.  I want you to remember that you are a gift. I know you’ve always felt that you weren’t wanted because your mamma left us, but that was her issue, not yours. I can tell you that I saw her face the first day she held you and she cried. I saw so much love in her eyes, but I also saw fear. She was afraid that she wouldn’t be a good mother to you. She got herself into a lot of trouble in her teens and she couldn’t break free from the devil’s hold. I prayed for her every day and still do, but in the end, we must trust that God will take care of His children.  I still hold out hope that your mamma will come around to her roots. If that day ever does happen, you must forgive her. She left because she thought it was best for you, not because she didn’t love you. I know it isn’t right, but her thinking wasn’t right. I want you to promise me that you will do something brave the day you receive this letter. I know you’ve been wanting to explore other careers besides teaching. You are a fine teacher, and you give light to those children; don’t ever forget it. I suspect your sense of unrest is because you won’t step out and be brave. Please audition at the local theater; I’ve seen your talent. You have it in you to be the lead actress in one of those musical plays they put on. I want you to be in the church choir too; I’ve heard you singing when you thought no one was listening. God blessed you with a beautiful voice and you could bless others with your gift. Also, take that trip out West that you’ve been dreaming about; go hiking across the Grand Canyon, go skiing in Vale, go hiking across the Pacific Crest Trail. Your granddaddy left you enough money to take a sabbatical and chase your dreams. I know you’ve always wanted to do a mission trip, but you are too shy to step out in faith.  Don’t blink my sweet flower; the days go faster the older you get. You are only 30 years old and if you choose to stay single, then I believe that God put it on your heart to do so. If that is the case, then use your time wisely. If, however, you do find the love of your life; jump in and let the love wash over you. Don’t be afraid; you are not your mother, and you would make a fine wife and a wonderful mother. You pray about it and do as our good Lord leads you.  Take a chance. In the meantime, change someone’s life. Dance. Hike. Sing. Explore. Give. Smile and taste life. We only get one and you deserve to enjoy yours. Go live out loud.  I love you. Nana”

Dalia sat down in the entryway chair while Mixie, her calico-looking cat, walked back and forth, rubbing her head across Dalia’s legs.  “Mixie, how could this be, how is it possible to get this letter 2 years after Nana’s death?”  Dalia was sad, yet exhilarated. She wondered why Nana didn’t say anything about the letter to her. Gosh, did Nana think I ignored it, or was angered by it?  It made Dalia sad to think that Nana would have thought the letter would make her cross. Maybe the post office dropped the letter behind a desk, and it sat there collecting dust these past 2 years. The timing of it was kind of crazy; Dalia had just been offered a university teaching job that she hadn’t even applied for. Her principal saw the talent in Dalia and recommended her for a position at University of Colorado, Boulder. That would mean Dalia would leave her small 1-bedroom bungalow in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. She would have to leave the safety of everything she has known since she took the teaching job 8 years ago.

When Nana died, Dalia put the house for sale that her grandparents owned for 65 years. Dalia received the funds from it and could take anything she wanted from the house.  Before deciding on an Estate Sale, she had gone through and taken the sentimental things and decided that Nana would be pleased to know Dalia decided to give the proceeds to the church. Dalia hired a local Estate Sale agent and left the details to her.

Dalia thought of that letter all night. She made herself a light dinner, played with Mixie, did a workout, and sat down to a movie. She couldn’t concentrate; her mind kept going back to the letter. Why was she so afraid to live life? She suspected that Nana was right; she didn’t feel worthy. When she was young, she waited for the door at Nana’s to open with her mother walking in to scoop her up. She wouldn’t know what her mom looked like because she was so young when she was abandoned. She owned one picture of her mom cradling Dalia in her arms. Oh, how she wished her life would have been different; that her mom wouldn’t have walked out, but she loved Nana so much and she couldn’t imagine life without Nana guiding her. Life was so complicated.  “God, please guide me. Please give me wisdom on next steps with the job, with life, with trust.”  Dalia turned the tv off and started cleaning. Whenever she was stressed, that is what she would do. She turned the music on and grabbed her cleaning bucket. Mixie just looked at her, licked her paws, and cleaned her face. In the middle of mopping her floor, she thought “I better get this place tip top if I am going to list it”.  It was as if she received her answer. She felt a clear sense that she should take the job and move out to Colorado. She stopped what she was doing and called Ms. Goodman, her principal.  “I am going to accept the offer on Monday. I just wanted you to know.”  Ms. Goodman was ecstatic for her, telling her that although Dalia would leave a large void, she knew that the university would be lucky to have her on staff.

Two weeks later, Dalia was preparing to leave the house so the realtor could do a showing. She thought back to the 5 weeks since she received the letter. It was crazy how much her life would change from that letter. Dalia had flown out to Colorado, purchased a small home contingent on hers selling, and even located a church to attend. She attended one of the services when she was in town house-hunting and walked up to the music director afterwards asking if there was room on the music team. To her surprise, he had told her that their lead worship pastor had just stepped down and they were looking for someone to take her place. Dalia agreed to do a brief interview where she sang a few worship songs. She landed the job the same weekend she purchased her house. How she would manage to do this role and her job at the University was beyond her, but she would find a way.

When her front door rang, she assumed it was Dean, the realtor, but realized her mistake when she opened the door. She was slightly irritated when she saw a woman standing there in the doorway. At first Dalia assumed it was a salesperson, but as she looked at the eyes of the woman, she knew. Before Susan said a word, Dalia knew it was her. Susan asked if she could come in, telling Dalia she understood if she said no. Dalia was dumbfounded and stepped back. She felt so many emotions right now without a conversation even taking place yet. She was angry, happy, confused, sad, curious, and overwhelmed. “I know this probably isn’t a good time,” said Susan.  “I have a realtor coming to show the house” Dalia said shaking her head as if to affirm that it wasn’t a good time. “Please, Dalia, can we go to the coffee shop, I have some things I want to talk about” pleaded Susan.

Three hours later, the two women were still talking. Susan had been in town after Nana died. She had even snuck in the back of the funeral without being noticed. Susan had moved a couple towns away after Nana died and had come to Bartlesville on several occasions to see Dalia but always chickened out. She had visited her own mother twice, but swore her to secrecy, promising that she would go see Dalia.  Susan was friends with the Estate Sale agent that Dalia hired and asked if she could go inside the house. One day, while going through things, Susan took a few things of Nana’s but insisted on paying for them. She found some mail that had never been sent; mostly bills, but a letter to Dalia that had been sitting out next to an addressed envelope. It was “the” letter. Susan held on to it, wanting to deliver it in person, but not being able to bring herself to do so. Susan told Dalia that she was ashamed of herself.  She had gone back to church a couple of years ago, rid herself of her ugly past and wanted to have a relationship with Dalia, knowing she didn’t deserve it. Susan decided to mail the letter one day after feeling the strong urge to do so.  Shortly afterwards, she saw the for-sale sign and knew she had to act; if she didn’t try to talk to Dalia now, it might never happen. Dalia sat in silence for a while, remembering what Nana’s letter said; forgive her mother.  Dalia decided to forgive Susan for what happened and the two agreed that it would be a long journey to build a relationship. Dalia told Susan that she had accepted the job in Colorado, which is why she was moving. The two agreed to meet, again, for lunch in the next couple of days and to work on building trust.

Dalia was pulling out of her driveway with the U-Haul towing behind her and Mixie whining in the crate beside her. She smiled as she thought of how she and her mother had met several times over the last few months. Dalia even invited her to come out to Colorado to visit. She told Susan she would be a music director at her new church. Susan told her she wasn’t surprised; she knew when she looked in the face of her baby so many years ago that there was nothing that could stop her. She recognized the potential in her daughter and feared that her presence would hold Dalia back, which is why she chose to leave. Believing she might negatively influence her child’s future, she stayed away, later realizing it had been a mistake. She grieved the years she lost. Before Dalia got into the truck, they embraced, and Dalia thanked her for sending the letter when she did. It had prompted her to finally pursue the life and opportunities she had long put off. Dalia was ready to seize the day, the month, and the next several years. She thanked God for her Nana’s influence and thanked him for her not-so-perfect mother who came back.