Chapter 32
NOW
Dear Lexie,
It’s human nature to share our joyous moments; in the same way that you were, we are more reticent when it comes to sharing our pain. Maybe it’s because it exposes our vulnerability, our regrets, our shame. But pain makes us compassionate and life is about all these things. Each of them is real.
As another spring comes around, the finest haze of verdant green steals across the landscape, with it, delicate tendrils of hope appearing. Hope that one day, I will be OK again. That this OK-ness will extend beyond the face I present to the world, to the broken heart I hide inside.
We all experience loss. It’s part of being alive. But some losses cut deeper; are harder to bear. They don’t go away. We wouldn’t want them to; they are a precious part of our human existence, and we hold them close.
Since losing you, I’ve found solace in nature, and living at Mary’s has been healing in more ways than I’ve realised.
Not just because I’ve brought her once-neglected garden back to life, planted flowers that have infused it with colour, but the peace here, the passing of the seasons, has reminded me I am part of something greater.
In short, in caring for it, her garden has cared for me. Maybe Mary had known it would be that way. Maybe that was the real reason she invited me here. That when she said I was deserving of kindness, that was what she really meant. I’ve learned from her that everyone’s deserving of kindness.
I move into my cottage on a cool spring morning. Joe helps me. I take it as a sign that the garden there is coming alive. Tulips growing up in one of the flowerbeds – orange, your favourite; cherry blossom cascading from a tree I didn’t notice before.
That evening, Ollie and Jenna come over, with Harrie and Charley, the puppy they’ve recently acquired. While Harrie totters around the garden, Charley runs rings around her, Jenna tells me she’s pregnant again. I hug her tight, feel my heart fill with love for this family of mine.
And so, another chapter of my life begins.
* * *
After moving, over the weeks that follow, I feel my future being drawn into focus. As I gaze up at the sky one night, something you used to say comes back to me.
The universe is infinite, Mum. Do you have any idea what that means? How many incredible possibilities there are? And at the same time how unlikely it is that we even exist?
That time, you were simply wondering, rather than looking for answers. But for whatever reason, you and I have existed. And you are still here, Lexie. Entwined into my heart, into the furthest reaches of my mind. Into my soul; knowing you has changed who I am.
And so, I find the smallest amount of your courage. Then I mix it with hope. Hope is something we all need. And because you are with me and change doesn’t come without risk, and because it isn’t really a risk, I go to talk to Joe.
When he sees me, his face lights up. ‘I was going to call you. I’ve sold the practice – to one of my employees.’ His relief is palpable. ‘It means I’m going ahead and starting up here.’
I gaze at him, slightly shocked at the timing of this.
He looks at me. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine.’ I pause. Then I summon that courage again, not that I need it. ‘I know how this is going to sound, but hear me out,’ I say, liking the way he smiles at me as, going on, I tell him my plan.