Jack's mom called, and I knew it must've been tough. "He can't keep going to the same high school," she said, "not unless he has a place to stay in town." Then she took a deep breath. "Elisa, do you think it'd be okay if... Can he live with you for a little while?"
We first met Jack when he played soccer with Trey in second grade, and over the years, he's become more like family than anything. That made it easy for us to ask him to live here.
He moved in shortly after I spoke with his mom, and that's when a lady called. "This is a terrible idea, Elisa," she said. I'd only told a few people, but news travels fast. "You have cancer!" Jan continued. "I saw how much those last treatments took it out of you. Don't you want your last memories to be with your family? Not someone else's child?"
I blinked, unable to respond for a moment.
"Plus, it'll be too much work. This—what you've agreed to—is ridiculous. I wish I could keep you in line! And I can't believe Mike agreed to this."
I knew she meant well, but her words stung. "I'm already cooking for everyone, so what's making a little extra for one more person? Plus, this could change his entire life: keeping the same friends in high school, staying in a place where he's excelling..." Then I added, "We have TWO extra rooms." I felt increasingly tired from this conversation. "Not letting him stay—when we can help—THAT would not only be ridiculous, that would be wrong." What's the point of life if we turn a blind eye when people need help?! "This'll teach the kids an important lesson, too. I know Trey will never forget that we helped his friend."
For weeks, I thought about Jan's words, and one night, as I rested on the living room couch and Trey and Jack talked after doing the dishes, I felt grateful again that Jack had come to live with us.
"One of my grandpas passed away. I have so many memories with him," Jack told Trey. "But sometimes, I feel like he's watching over me, making sure I'm doing the right thing." His voice turned even more serious. "My Tribe, they do sundances and stuff like that. And when we pray, I pray for everyone I'm thankful for. I've always prayed for you guys and your mom. I pray for her to get better." He paused. "She's like a mom to me."
"You're family to us, too," Trey said, and tears filled my eyes.
That weekend, Mike and I brought the kids around town and decided to visit Ruby where she works as a tattoo artist. "Jack," I said as we drove toward the shop, "can you tell us about your grandpa, who passed away?"
"He's one of the people who's influenced me the most," Jack said.
"I wish I could've met him," I admitted. "He sounds amazing."
We got closer to the shop, and the conversation shifted gears. Soon, everyone told Jack about Ruby's journey to becoming a tattoo artist. She had so many opportunities for different careers and even got accepted to a big art college in California. But instead of pursuing traditional routes, at the age of 17, Ruby began visiting a local tattoo shop every day. She begged the artists to train her, but they weren't taking apprentices, and she was way too young anyway. But the kid kept going. And after a while, she started cleaning the different stations, lobby, and bathrooms, just wanting to make sure the place looked nice. She filed papers, answered phones, and helped replace an old floor. It wasn't until one of the artists talked with me, that I realized they'd decided to take her on as an apprentice.
"I remember the guy who first taught me," the artist said. "I guess he's the reason I want to help Ruby. She's willing to work hard, and she's earned a chance."
We finally arrived at the shop and got out of the SUV. "It seems like Ruby always knew what she wanted to do," I said then turned to Jack, thinking about his grandpa again. "What did your grandpa do for a living?" I asked.
"You won't believe it," Jack said, "and it wasn't around here, but he was actually a tattoo artist."
We went into the shop, and not long after giving Ruby the food we'd brought for her, Jack appeared completely shocked. "Everything okay?" Trey asked him.
"It's just that..." Jack paused for a minute. "You know my grandpa who passed away and worked as a tattoo artist?"
Trey nodded.
"Well, he only really had one apprentice, one person he taught everything, and—"
At that moment, Ruby's mentor walked through the door and appeared stunned to see Jack. "Jack! What are you doing here?"
___
As we drove home, I found the situation surreal. My oldest baby worked exceedingly hard to finish her years-long apprenticeship, and now her dreams are coming to fruition. BUT the main reason a local artist even took an apprentice in the first place is because of his own mentor's example of altruism and kindness. That man was Jack's grandfather.
The next time Jan called, I guardedly told her this story.
"I've been meaning to tell you something," she finally said, stringing her words together slowly. "We're opposites in a lot of ways. And, well, about that conversation when Jack first moved in, I think I overstepped. It's just that if I were sick, I'd want time alone with my family, JUST my family." She remained momentarily quiet. "But I've felt really bad about what I said, and the truth is that I can see a lot of value in what you're showing your kids by example. I was just worried about you."
I sighed, relieved. It'd been driving me crazy to have this unresolved, especially since life with cancer can be uncertain. "Thank you. I really think Jack was meant to stay here. He's helped Trey and even stood up for Indy when she started high school. I think he's done more for us than we've done for him."
She spoke after a minute. "You know, Elisa, I think you're right. That story about Jack's grandpa is more than a coincidence. You're all exactly where you're meant to be."
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