KATHERINE'S QUEST: One Woman's Journey to Elation

By Pat Alva-Kraker

Tender, funny and wonderfully inspiring, "Katherine's Quest: One Woman's Journey to Elation," celebrates what it is to live an empowered life, the healing power of new beginnings, and a reminder that elation is a choice.

 

This enlightening story follows Katherine on her journey to elation after losing her marriage, home, and bu

• Language: English
• Publisher: BEYOND PUBLISHING
• Release date: Sep 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781637924730

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Katherine was happy. She was content. She had everything she needed and most of what she wanted. For fifty-one, life was good.

Until that one day.

The day when it all went away. Within a few weeks, her small business closed, her husband ran off with his young secretary, and Katherine felt like she had lost all security and hope. It was the first dark time of her life.

Scrambling to pay bills, keep a roof over her head, and keep food on the table, Katherine didn’t know what to do. She paced around her house for a few days, crying, screaming, and praying. She didn’t know where to look for answers, where to find the slightest bit of guidance. Day after day, it was the same. The words of friends and family were hollow. She was falling off a cliff in slow motion, with no hand reaching out to save her.

Until the day of the attic.

She could not remember now what it was that sent her upstairs to that part of the house. Whether she was feeling adventurous or just needing a break from the vacant downstairs, Katherine yanked down the ladder and scrambled up, poking her head through the opening in the ceiling. It was so very hot; within two minutes, she could feel sweat beading on her upper lip as she rummaged through the odds and ends that had been there. Katherine felt a flash of nostalgia as she saw the pile of holiday decorations. She should probably give those away; it wasn’t like she would be in the mood to celebrate this year. There were some old golf clubs and sports memorabilia that belonged to her husband. She debated on destroying those things for the sake of petty satisfaction, then put them to one side to sell. With things so tight, a few extra dollars wouldn’t hurt. An old steamer trunk set back under a few boxes caught her eye. As she dug it out, she saw the battered piece of luggage. The word I-N-M-A-N had been stenciled on the side in large, white letters.

Uncle Iman had been a world traveler, a man known for his quirks, his glib tongue to get out of any situation, and his ability to entertain his friends with tall tales of his travels. One might not always have confidence in the veracity of his stories, but there was no doubt they were incredibly spellbinding. As a child, Katherine had sat, entranced for hours as Uncle Iman’s voice transported her to exotic islands, barren desserts, and frozen tundras in the farthest reaches of the world.

Curious about what was inside, Katherine wrestled the trunk down the attic stairs and dumped it with a clunk on the floor. She fumbled with the clasps that hadn’t been opened in years. Finally, after some frantic jiggling, the trunk popped open, releasing the musty smell of mothballs and old leather. She smiled nostalgically as she dug around; there were some battered clothes she recognized, a pair of boots, a watch, and two hats: one for cold weather, and one for warm weather. All things Uncle Iman carried with him on his travels. Hidden at the bottom of the trunk was a leather-bound journal with her uncle’s initial embossed on the cover, and she ran a gentle hand over the worn surface.

Katherine held the book up to the light. Oh, Uncle Iman, she sighed. You were absolutely my favorite. I think you were the only one in the family who took me seriously. I wonder, did you ever find the answers you were seeking?

Tucking the journal under one arm and closing the trunk, Katherine brought the book into the kitchen and set it on the table. Then, after filling a cup with her favorite blend of chamomile tea, she carried the steaming mug and journal into the study.

I’ve looked everywhere else for the answers, she whispered as she sat down in her most comfortable chair. Please, uncle, tell me what to do.

She opened the journal, and a single page, tucked and folded into the binding fell onto