Francine Rivers - Her Daughter’s Dream

Between classes, work, and AA meetings, Carolyn missed every milestone in May Flower Dawn’s first year. Carolyn wasn’t there when her baby daughter rolled over, learned to grasp a toy, sat up, or began to crawl. She didn’t hear her say Mama . Mom and Dad began calling her daughter Dawn, and when she needed comfort or wanted something, she didn’t reach out to Carolyn. She wanted Granny.

1974

Finally growing weary of her library job, Carolyn used a portion of her savings to buy business attire and applied for part-time work as a receptionist in a real estate office owned by Myrna Wegeman, an attractive, ambitious overachiever, who hired her and started Carolyn at fifty cents more an hour than she’d been earning. Carolyn still had nights and Sundays free to study and attend AA meetings, but hardly any time at all with three-year-old Dawn. Mom and Dad didn’t complain, and Dawn didn’t miss her.

With a constant stream of new listings, Myrna handed Carolyn an expensive camera and sent her out to take pictures of properties. Carolyn studied the houses from every angle before shooting the pictures. Myrna couldn’t have been more pleased with the results.

“I’m getting more calls on the properties you’ve shot than the ones I’ve done. You have a talent for this. Ever think about becoming a real estate agent?”

The more Carolyn did for Myrna, the more Myrna expected of her. When Myrna began asking her to oversee open houses on Sunday afternoons, Carolyn asked for double pay. Myrna reluctantly agreed.

This time, Carolyn ran into resistance at home. Mom balked at the idea of longer hours. “You’re hardly ever home as it is.”

Dad didn’t like the idea either. “Your mother could use a break once in a while.”

So could I! Carolyn wanted to say. She never had a day off, not that she dared ask for one. “I can take May Flower Dawn with me.” The idea of having her daughter to herself for an entire afternoon excited her, but Mom nixed that idea.

“Maybe she should take Dawn with her, Hildie. Give Carolyn a chance to find out how hard it is to take care of a child.”

Mom gave Dad a quelling look. “You make it sound like labor. I love taking care of Dawn. She’s no bother at all!”

Dad gave up on Mom and directed his logic at Carolyn. “You’ve got plenty of time. You don’t have to be in such a hurry. You’re making good enough headway on your debts.”

Carolyn realized they had no concerns over how much time she’d already lost with May Flower Dawn.

Oma came over early one Sunday before heading to church. She no longer attended church in Paxtown, but drove to a neighboring town. Mom had commented on it once. “Oma can’t stand to be in the same building with Thelma Martin. Not that I blame her. But I’m not letting that gossip drive me away.”

No one ever suggested Carolyn return. Certainly Rev. Elias never did.

Oma set her purse on the breakfast counter. “When was the last time you spent more than an hour with your daughter?”

“I don’t have an hour, Oma. I have classes. I have to study. I have to work.”

Oma watched Carolyn write notes. “Your mom and dad are doing what they think is right. They’re doing the best they can for both you and May Flower Dawn.”

Carolyn looked up from her textbook. “I know. I’m not complaining. It’s just the way things are.” Flipping the page in her text, she tried to refocus on her studies. “Sorry. I don’t mean to ignore you, but I only have a couple of hours to study before I have to leave for an open house.” She could feel Oma looking at her. How long since they had sat on the patio and had tea together?

“Maybe you should speak up about what you’re feeling, Carolyn.”

“Feeling?” Carolyn gave a bleak laugh. Speaking up wouldn’t change anything. It would make things a hundred times worse! Oma didn’t move. Frustrated, Carolyn stopped writing and looked at her. “And you don’t have to say it. I already know. By the time I have a place of my own, Dawn won’t be mine anymore.”

“It’s never been about possession.”

“Maybe not, but that’s the way it’s turned out. And I’m losing ground with every day that passes.” No matter how little time she spent with her child, she loved her. She longed to have her back in her arms. Why else did they think she worked so hard? She wanted her life back, a life that centered on May Flower Dawn.

Oma reached over and gripped her wrist, eyes flashing. “I took care of you when you were little more than a toddler. You needed me. Do you remember? But that didn’t change the fact that your mother is still your mother!”

“Yes. I remember.” Carolyn put her hand over Oma’s. “But I learned to love you more, didn’t I?”

Oma’s eyes flickered. She had an odd expression on her face. Picking up her purse, she stood. “It never stopped you from loving her.” She went quietly out the door.

Dear Rosie,

I see more clearly now how things I thought I did for good caused harm. Remember when I moved in with Hildemara when she was ill with consumption? I wanted to help, but ended up taking over. I became so attached to Carolyn, I didn’t see the damage I did to my daughter.

Now I find myself watching Carolyn suffer as Hildemara must have. The girl is working so hard to put her life back together and earn love, all because Trip laid out a plan for her to “get back on her feet” and “fly right.” They want to help, just as I did. But these conditions have left no time for Carolyn to be with her child, no time to be part of the family. I hardly ever see Carolyn anymore. We barely have time to exchange a greeting, let alone sit under the arbor and have a cup of tea. How can I encourage her? I have no answers.

I have never seen Hildemara so happy (other than her complaints that Carolyn no longer attends church). I understand her happiness because I felt the same when I took care of Carolyn. I felt the loss of my daughter’s affections far less when I could freely pour my love out on my granddaughter. And there is the dilemma! Did I have the right to usurp Hildemara in Carolyn’s affections as I now see her doing with May Flower Dawn? Hildemara is in her glory. She does all the things a mother longs to do for her child. Of course, Carolyn does not complain about anything. She has always been reticent about sharing her feelings. Yesterday she surprised me and said her mother never had time for her, but all the time in the world for May Flower Dawn. She didn’t say it with bitterness, but resignation.

I’ve been pondering Carolyn’s words ever since. I wonder if Hildemara feels the same about me…

1976

Time moved too quickly. Carolyn’s mother had enrolled Dawn in nursery school and stayed as a volunteer. Carolyn pushed harder than ever as she went into her senior year of college. Myrna urged Carolyn to study for a real estate license. “I have more clients than I can handle, and you’ve already learned how to write proposals and put the paperwork together.” Myrna had seen to that. “You’d make a lot more money than you do as my receptionist.”

Adding another goal chewed into what little time Carolyn had left. She wished she could quit college, but Dad wouldn’t hear of it. “Real estate markets go up and down. A college degree lasts forever.” The last few months proved to be the most taxing, and then she got the word she had made it. She told Dad, knowing he would care more than Mom. Only one hitch.

“What do you mean you’re not going through the graduation ceremony?”

Carolyn shrugged it off. “It’s not important. I’ll get my diploma in the mail.”