Chapter 31 #2
“But . . . ,” I start. “But I make rings on the table and leave my underwear on the bathroom floor and eat your yogurt.”
Mum smirks. “Yes, you do. But when you do those things, when you’re still here, you’re still my baby.
I think it was easy for me to criticize you for being irresponsible, without really wanting you to move on and be responsible.
I’ve let it all slide, instead of pushing you like I should have.
You’ll understand this one day, if you ever have children, but .
. . it’s hard to find your kids don’t need you anymore. ”
I let her words settle for a moment. I’ve never thought of it like that before. I always knew Mum was controlling, but . . . I always blamed myself entirely for still being here. The fact that she’s admitting some mutual responsibility in our dynamic makes me feel ever so slightly less pathetic.
“I still need you, Mum,” I say. “I’ll always need you. I just . . . maybe don’t need you to buy my underwear.”
Mum laughs.
“I think maybe I will ask Gavin to move in,” she says. “Christ knows he’s been hinting at it enough.” She smiles, and I can tell that’s what she really wants.
I look around at the freshly painted room.
I picture Gavin sitting in here, taking calls and drinking cups of coffee and drawing his neck pillow tight, right in the spot where I’ve slept, not slept, cried, snuck in boys—and then, later on, girls—when Mum was out, laughed, hated all my friends, loved all my friends, where basically every passing thought has swept through my mind for the last twenty-nine years.
This will be his space now. There is no going back.
I barely realized how much I took for granted having such a solid base here.
Now someone else is actually taking my room.
My room. In some ways, I feel like someone just pulled the floor from under me.
And then the ground beneath the floor. I’m falling, falling, falling into a terrifying abyss of unknown.
But in another way, I know it’s completely right and way, way overdue. It hurts, but I can already tell it’s the kind of pain you need to feel in order to grieve, heal, and renew. Kind of like the real meaning of the Death card
We sit on the floor for a while longer. Eventually Mum says, “Shall I make us some tea?”
I nod gratefully and we move downstairs, through to the living room. I take my seat on the usual side of the sofa while Mum goes to put the kettle on. The cushions still have my imprint in them and I nestle into it.
Then I see something in the corner of the room. A pack of familiar cards with little figures on them and a book that says Understanding Tarot.
“Mum,” I say, hardly believing my eyes. “Are those . . . tarot cards?”
“Hmm?” she says over the noise of the kettle boiling. “Oh, those! Yes. Anne from Poker Club brought them over for a laugh and forgot to take them with her.”
I stare at them in disbelief. “Can I . . .”
“Oh, yes, go ahead. I’m sure Anne wouldn’t mind.”
I move over to the pack of cards and the book and pick them both up.
I sit back down on the sofa, holding the cards reverently.
On the front of the pack, a man in a frilly tunic is holding a pole and a rose and tilting his head back under the sun in a carefree manner.
I open the pack and begin to shuffle the cards.
I hear Spellbound Sue, telling me to stop when I “feel” it. I break midway through the deck and lay three cards face up. Past. Present. Future.
First I lay the Fool. The same carefree man on the front of the pack stares back at me.
Then I lay Strength. A woman in a white dress bends over a lion, holding its jaws in her hands.
Finally, I reveal the World. A woman stands dancing on some clouds waving some wands around in the center of some kind of wreath.
I read about my past: the Fool.
The fool is a naive adventurer, about to begin a significant journey. Idealistic, but not grounded in reality, he sets off into the world blissfully ignorant of the dangers and hardships that lie in wait . . .
I cringe. Yep. That definitely sounds like the me of a few weeks ago. Innocently believing that I knew my own mind, that my unhinged letters were dishing out necessary truths to those who needed it, that I knew exactly what needed to change, and it wasn’t me.
I flip to my present: Strength.
The woman is strong in the face of the lion, representing her base instincts.
Although her position is dangerous and she may have reason to be afraid, she does not cow to her fear.
This card is about having the courage to listen to our own, most difficult inner conflicts, and tame them in order to live boldly and confidently as our true selves.
This card is about resilience of character.
I sit with this for a moment. It resonates profoundly. I do feel, right now, that is what I’m doing . . . or at least trying to do. I don’t want to give in to fear anymore. I turn to the page about my future: the World.
One of the most positive cards of the Major Arcana.
The dancer in the center is the Fool, but he has traveled the world on a spiritual quest and is reborn, with a new understanding of himself.
This is a card of success, harmony, and renewal.
It is a card of deep joy as dedication to transformation pays off.
You know . . . I’m starting to believe that maybe Spellbound Sue was actually onto something all along?
I feel ten times lighter than I did when I walked into the house.
I’m still not sure I really believe in spiritual divination, as such, but .
. . isn’t it strange that these cards and this book were lying here in wait for me?
And that I would pick these three cards, in this order?
It feels like the universe is trying to tell me something.
Or, maybe, the cards being here is just a massive coincidence and my own subconscious is trying to tell me something .
. . But in any case, I sense that “something” is very important and should be listened to.
Mum pours two mugs of tea and comes to sit beside me. She puts them on the table.
“Good reading?” she asks.
“Very good.” I smile, looking at the cards on the table, thinking how they’re a world away from the last reading I had.
“I was thinking.” Mum folds her hands in her lap. “I think a sofa bed might look nice in the corner of Gavin’s study, don’t you? You know, just in case you ever do want to visit.”
I hug her. We sit there clutching each other for a few minutes.
“Why don’t you go and run a bath and get into something comfy? I assume you’re staying, tonight at least?” Mum suggests. “I’ll put my pajamas on too.”
We hang out for the rest of the evening, watching Grey’s Anatomy and eating everything left in the fridge. I fall asleep on the sofa listening to the comforting sounds of Meredith Grey having a major life crisis and my mum making her pre-bedtime decaffeinated tea.
The next morning, I head upstairs and gently push open the door to my old bedroom.
I hover in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in, saying goodbye one last time.
The future is blank and daunting, but I’m happy and hopeful for Mum and Gavin.
They’ve got their World card, and I need to go out and get mine.