Practicing What You Preach. Vanessa Davis Griggs
were the one who called my house a few times a few months back, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And I told you to stop harassing me, did I not?”
“Yes, but—”
“Yes, but nothing!” Arletha said with obvious anger lacing her voice. She stood up, then turned her attention to Angela. “Young lady, your minute is up,” she said, as she indicated we had officially worn out our welcome.
Angela spoke in a hurried manner. “Ms. Brown, I don’t want anything from you. I’m merely searching for my grandmother, that’s all. Surely you can appreciate that. Her name was Arletha, just like yours. I hate to confess this, but I just learned this today. When my cousin, Gayle, here”—she looked over at Gayle and nodded—“came in for my wedding and told me. You see, even though I live here now, I’m originally from Asheville, North Carolina. My mother, Rebecca, died when I was only five. So I don’t remember a lot about her. Just the bits and pieces I have been able to hold on to.”
Arletha shrugged. “I’m sorry to hear that. But none of this has anything to do with me.”
“My great-grandmother who raised me, her name was Pearl, she died four years ago. I’m getting married on Saturday to this wonderful man. His name is Brent…Brent Underwood.” Angela spoke passionately. “I didn’t think it would mean so much to me since I had never known much about my grandmother, but when I learned today, for the very first time, my grandmother’s name—”
“You’d never known your grandmother’s name before today?” Arletha asked.
“No. My great-grandmother never talked about her daughter, at least not around me. And the other family members didn’t either. I don’t know what that was all about, I don’t know what happened, but that’s how things were. No one talked about it. Ever.”
Arletha shrugged her shoulders a few times. “Sounds messed up, if you ask me. In fact, it sounds like your family pretty much disowned her. I’m sorry for what you have probably lost in all of this, and I’m also sorry that I can’t help you.”
“So are you saying you never lived in Asheville, North Carolina? That there is no way you could even remotely be my grandmother?” Angela asked. She looked directly into Arletha’s eyes as she stood close to her.
“I’m saying that I wish I could help you, seeing as you seem to be a nice young lady, a very pretty young lady at that. But my advice to you is to have a wonderful wedding and to forget about this nonsense of finding some grandmother that may or may not still be alive and may or may not want to be found,” Arletha said. “That’s just my opinion. I’ve been on this earth a long time, and I can tell you that this world brings you enough trouble without you going out looking for it unnecessarily.”
“But it’s not trouble I’m searching for right now. I’m looking for family. And if that’s you, then I want you to know that I love you. I truly do. No, I didn’t grow up knowing my grandmother, but if you are my grandmother, I love you.”
Angela began to cry as she spoke. “I don’t have a mother to sit on my side of the aisle for my wedding. And yes, when I heard my grandmother might still be alive, of course I was going to stop whatever I was doing and go look for her. And when I learned there was a possibility the woman I seek might be you, of course I was going to come over and do all I could to see you, to talk with you. I promise I don’t want anything from you. But there’s something I can’t explain and don’t quite understand myself about knowing that your own blood is out there somewhere that causes a person to want to find them.” Angela broke down. I reached in my purse and handed her my packet of tissues.
“I never fully appreciated why, when it came to adopted children who are raised in loving families, they still feel a need to locate that missing parent,” Angela continued. “But for some reason that I can’t explain, you have this burning need, a desire to connect. You want to look into the eyes of where you came from. In some ways, you feel it will possibly help you find yourself. It’s hard to put what I feel into words.”
Gayle hugged Angela. “Ms. Brown. I’m Angel’s second cousin. My grandmother, Pearl, Angel’s great-grandmother, asked me to do this for her right before she died. She asked me to try and find her daughter Arletha. At the very end of her life, she wanted Angel to know her grandmother, if by God’s grace she happened to still be alive.”
Gayle’s voice became softer. “If there’s even the smallest chance you are Angel’s grandmother, please do the right thing. Please do whatever you can. And if you’re not sure, for whatever reason, please—”
“What do you think? That I have amnesia? I’m in stages of dementia, Alzheimer’s or something where I don’t remember whether I had a child or not? You think I don’t know who I am? Who my own mother was? Where I came from?” Arletha asked.
“No. I’m just saying we can do a DNA test and put this to rest for all concerned,” Gayle said. “It’s a pretty simple procedure to administer. They swab the inside of your cheek with a Q-tip, send it to a lab equipped to handle DNA tests, and it will tell us once and for all whether you are any kin to Angel…and to me.”
“And what are you supposed to be, some kind of DNA specialist?” Arletha asked as she stared at Gayle, who had moved even closer to Angela.
“No. I’m a nurse.”
“Well, as I’ve already stated, I do feel for you, young lady,” Arletha said, directing her attention back to Angela. She led us out of the room. “I’m sure you’re going to have a lovely wedding. My advice to you—and you can take it for what it’s worth or not—is to forget about what you don’t have and learn to concentrate on and appreciate what you do. I’m sure your husband-to-be doesn’t want or need all this drama.” Arletha opened the front door and held it as she waited for us to leave.
Angela took out her business card, turned it over, and wrote her home address on the back. “Here is my card with all of my contact information on it, including my cell number.” Angela handed the card to her. “If you need anything, anything at all, or if something comes up, will you please get in touch with me?”
Arletha shrugged as she took the card. “I’ll take your card, but I don’t know anything more I can do for you. I can’t make it any plainer than that.”
Angela looked at Arletha one last time. She stepped outside, then smiled. “Thank you for your time. We didn’t mean to bother you.”
“Yeah. Sure,” Arletha said as though she didn’t really believe that. Suddenly, her countenance began to soften a tad. “And whether you believe this or not, I am sorry things didn’t work out for you. I’m not totally unsympathetic to your plight. And for the record, if I really were your grandmother, I’d be proud to have you as a granddaughter.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Angela put on her shades. “But I’ll keep praying, and we’ll see what God does next. I know that His ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our thoughts. And like Great-granny always told me: there’s nothing too hard for our God.”
“You’re preaching to the choir now. Especially when you start talking about God,” Arletha said. “You just need to let God be God and start actually practicing what you preach. And if it’s God’s will, you’ll locate your grandmother, one way or another.”
Angela thanked Arletha for her time, apologized again for showing up the way we had, and said good-bye. A little bit despondent, we got back in the car.
“Well, you gave it your best shot,” Gayle said, patting Angela on her shoulder.
“Yeah. You followed up, and it turns out she’s not the one you were looking for,” I said.
Angela took off her shades. “Oh, y’all both think so?” She started backing out of the driveway. “That Arletha we just met, Arletha Brown, that’s my grandmother.” Putting the car in drive, Angela turned her head back and looked at Gayle.