Just in case you missed the prior installments of this story, you can find the links below. I know some of you were missing some of my own illustrations, so here is one fresh off the press for submission of this installment of the story.
The attic was actually quite spacious. At one end stood a beautiful stone fireplace with built-in floor to ceiling bookshelves on either side. A woven rug lay before the fireplace, along with an emerald green chaise lounge on one side and a Victorian armchair that matched the emerald green velvet material of the chaise on the other. They were still in excellent condition, given their age. Despite her family not maintaining time in residence at the family manor since her grandmother was young, they had always kept landscaping, gardening, and cleaning services in place for the upkeep of the family home.
Her grandmother had insisted that this be upheld, even after her death. In her will, she had left an account with quite a substantial amount of money to maintain the family home. When her grandmother passed, the family bookkeeper and accountant told her this account had been in the family for generations. According to them, it’s sole purpose was for maintaining a high standard of care to the family property. Margie had always understood that the family was well-to-do. However, she never realized the extent of the wealth. Her family had not been boastful by any means in the property they kept or in the attitudes and values they lived by. Granted Margie’s grandfather had passed away when she was ten years old, Margie knew he had been a doctor, as were his only two brothers.
Margie walked over to the beautiful wood writing desk, which had to be dated back to at least the Georgian era. She knew the family on her father’s side had been among the first to colonize Massachusetts in the early 1630s. Her grandfather had told her many tales of her family’s heritage before he had passed away. Her grandmother was not as forthcoming with this sort of family information. Margie had guessed it made her miss her grandfather and his warm enthusiasm for history. It was something that her grandmother had seemed to keep intimately hidden away for safekeeping in her memories, and in her heart.
Margie sat down at the desk with her book of “Timeless Tales.” She traced the symbol on the cover, trying to recall what she knew of her Irish ancestry. Instinctively she went over to the bookshelves. She slowly read over the titles until her eyes stumbled upon a place in the bookshelf where it looked like a book was missing. She pulled out one of the books that would have been on either side of the book that was missing from its rightful home. Its title read, “Nordic Symbols and Mythology.” Margie felt a knowing pang, something did not seem right, and yet this book seemed to be exactly what she needed.
She walked back to the desk and let her fingers guide her through the pages of the book she had picked up. She was not entirely sure what she was looking for, but Margie had a feeling her senses would tell her if she was willing to listen. Margie did not seem to notice that Nutmeg had jumped up onto the corner of the desk and was watching her gradual perusal of the book. With each turn of the page, Margie was silently hoping she would just know what she was looking for. She was so engrossed in her close examination of the book, that she was startled when Nutmeg came over and laid down on top of the opened pages and started purring loudly.
She laughed and scratched beneath Nutmeg’s ear. Oh, my sweet dear, she cooed, “I didn’t mean to forget you were here.” Margie picked Nutmeg up and settled her on her lap, ready to return to her investigation. However, when she looked up, Margie saw a symbol that looked very similar to the one on her locket and the book of “Timeless Tales.” It read, “The Triquetra, The Triple Moon, or Triple Goddess is a symbol of the mind, body, spirit connection. A symbol of great wisdom and intuition. It connects the elements earth, air, and water, along with the phases of the moon. It not only signifies the cycles of life, it also celebrates the divine feminine, and symbolizes the empowerment of feminine power.”
The air around Margie began to spark with the warmth that was spreading through her. She knew without a doubt that she was meant to find this book, and that the dream of her grandmother was no coincidence. Though there was much more to learn, she had an understanding that there was more to her family’s history than the rich Celtic ancestry of which her grandmother and grandfather had spoken. She realized that there was a significance to all her grandmother’s talk of her mother’s fair complexion and ethereal blue eyes. Not to mention, beyond that, she knew nothing of her mother’s side of the family. To her, it was a mystery that felt lost in time. How was she going to figure it out on her own? Where did she even begin?