« 10 (Watkins). Becky refolded the letter, carefully placing it back in the handwritten envelope. The envelope that was addressed to her mother 23 years ago, but had never reached Becky’s hands. In fact, the box was full of cards that had never reached Becky. Every single one of them was from her father’s side of the family that she had been denied access to. They had been sent to her mother’s address, which had never changed, in the hope that Becky might enjoy them. She never did. A whole side of Becky’s life had been hidden, for 40 years. Until now. Pauline had died, and Becky had been set free. Free to discover a part of herself that had died with her father when she was just four years old. And free to investigate the father she never really knew. No more secrets. No more arguments. No more of her mother’s jealousy, angry tantrums, and mad ramblings. They had been buried on a morning shrouded in cold, damp mist just two days before. Whatever Pauline had kept from Becky, it was time to unravel it and emerge from the mystery of her past. Time to know the truth. the truth of who I am. This was taken just before your father died, with you beside him. Please feel free to ask questions as you wish, rather than me inundating you with details you may not be ready to receive. I hope we can rekindle a friendship that has been lost. Kind regards, Ruth. ……….. Ruth’s throat tightened as unstoppable sobs came bursting to the surface. Her eyes welled with tears that spilled over her cheeks. Her niece, lost for 40 years had been found. Since Gregory had died, when Becky was four, Pauline and her daughter had never made contact with the family. No mention of how Greg’s little girl was going. Until today. Ruth couldn’t respond; she was too overcome. A walk. Yes, a walk to think clearly and sort through the jumble of emotions entangled together like bright cottons in a box. A few evenings later she sent an email to Becky. She would go slowly and choose her words carefully. Dear Becky, Yes, I am your aunty, Gregory MacDonald’s younger sister. Sorry for the delay in responding. I was overwhelmed to receive your email and needed time to think through a response. I do not want to alarm you by giving you too much information too soon. I have attached a photo, to substantiate ………` When we feel that something beautiful in our lives has died and become lost forever, know that it may only be dormant. There is still new life ruminating inside waiting to emerge and reveal something beautiful. Hope has not gone. We have not been forgotten. God is at work, despite what we feel, despite what we see. Is there a relationship that has been buried and needs resurrecting? Or perhaps a part of us that has been lost and forgotten? Can we reach out to God with hope that what is lying dormant will come forth to bring new life? The story of Becky is unfolding right before my very eyes. She is my cousin that I have not seen for such a very long time. God does not forget the prayers of those who faithfully pray for years for the things that look hopeless. Whatever lies dormant in our life can become a thing of joy and beauty if we pray, trust and believe. DOZ Magazine September 2018 ……… Becky stared at the photo in disbelief. Was that really him? She had never seen a photo of her father before. And there she was sitting happily on his lap, with his arm around her tiny waist. His arm. Dad’s arm holding his little girl. The girl whom he loved for such a short time. Becky grew restless to know more. How had he died? Where? When? Pauline had refused to tell her daughter anything. From daddy’s little girl who had laid dormant for all these long, sad years was emerging a bold, brave woman who sought to reclaim her past and her lost identity. The dormant years were over, and something beautiful, new and exciting was about to blossom.