Eight Years Ago, Downtown London:
I was lying in the middle of my bed overtop of the covers. The blanket beneath me was tearstained, soaked all the way through to the mattress. I don't know how long I'd been laying there for; it was light outside, so I assumed it was sometime in the afternoon. My mind drifted in and out of consciousness; not really asleep but sort of in a daze, unable to sleep, unable to breathe….. Everything hurt, and I just didn't want to move.
Sometime later there was a soft knock at my door. I didn't move to get up and answer it; whoever it was could either enter or go away- I didn't care which. Eventually the door opened and one of my uncle's entered. He was carrying a cup of freshly brewed tea in his hands. Gazing down at it trying to keep it from spilling, he peered up to me on the bed. I didn't bother looking back at him or saying a word. Uncle Albert set the drink down on my desk in front of the window before sitting down on the edge of the bed beside me.
His hand gave my shoulder a tender, regretful pat. "Ah, Kate….. I'm so sorry. You and your sister are too young to go through this. My heart goes out to you both." No reply on my end, I just kept staring at the wall. Uncle Albert just continued rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. "I know it hurts now; I felt the same when your grandfather died. And it's probably going to hurt for a long time….." Still nothing from me. He went on.
"But you've got to believe me, things will get better. You won't always feel this way." "Yes, I will," I whimpered back and he shook his head. "No, you won't. Your dad and I grieved when our father passed away, but we healed eventually. Just because his life's over doesn't mean yours is." My eyes lowered a little in pure misery. "B-But how can I go on…..? How can I enjoy anything anymore, knowing that he never will again? He'll never see the sun again….. or eat good food or drink good coffee… He won't see Edwina and I grow up," this last statement was particularly painful. My uncle gave my skin a squeeze, as if to calm me down.
"He will, Kate; in his own way. He lives on through you two; he'll see the future through your eyes. He'll always be with you, and you know your dad. He wouldn't want you to shut yourself off from the good things in life just because he's no longer here. He raised you to find joy and meaning with what time you have on earth; he wouldn't want you to waste it. He loves you, Kate- that doesn't stop when he's gone."
Uncle Albert said all this, and I peeked over his way from over my shoulder. He flashed me a compassionate smile, lowering his chin slightly. "Remember what your father always said: life is full of ups and downs. Just because you're down for a little while doesn't mean you'll never go back up. And when you're up, take time to remember and be grateful for the experience. It won't last, but neither do the downs in life. And the best part is that whenever you're afraid of losing your "up", you know another one will come eventually. That's part of living, Kate; embracing the impermanence of reality.
Time will never stand still, so ride the waves the best you can."
Uncle Albert concluded his comforting speech by giving me a kiss on the forehead. Then he left me alone in my room again. Thinking about what he told me, my gazed moved to the window, or rather outside of it. There was this tall tree in the backyard with pink flowers blooming on it. The petals swayed in the breeze, like they had no idea that they'd be falling to the ground soon. It seemed so cruel…. The lifespan of a flower, a bee, a bird was so short compared to ours. They only got to bask in the sunlight for a short period of time, all without realizing their end was near.
And yet….. they looked happy. The birds chirped merrily, hopping around the branches and playing in the birdbath. Even the flowers opened widely, proudly in the sunlight. Maybe it doesn't matter how much time you actually have- it's what you do with it while you're here. Maybe that's what Dad tried to teach me all this time….. He was adamant that Edwina and I stay single, not getting into a toxic marriage like him, but perhaps that's because he doesn't want us to unnecessarily suffer. After all, life is hard enough, and there's so many other pleasures to embrace. I could only imagine myself being in a relationship with someone who's like Dad that way; who makes life easier, not harder in the long run.
My eyes wandered over to the stemming cup of tea on my desk. I don't know why but staring at it, this sad grin began to blossom on my lips- the first time I smiled in nearly two weeks. I love tea, was the first thought that came to mind, and it was so nice of my uncle to bring it for me. It was small and inconsequential, but I liked it nonetheless.
Sitting up, I reached for it. Maybe that's the trick; find little things like these that seem silly and pointless but add up in the long run. One cup of tea may be nothing on its own, but two cups, or three, or four….. It would take a long time for me to recover, to get back to a state of "normal"- whatever that means. But I won't discount these small things. Daddy was right; there's still so much in life to be grateful for….. even if I'm in endless amounts of pain nothing can wash away now. Still crying and smiling to myself, I slowly sipped at my tea while watching the happy birds flutter about outside my window.
It took me years to get over Daddy's passing, and I still think about him every day. Edwina unfortunately did not heal in the same way I did. She turned outwards, focusing excessively on her friends, image, and the London party scene. For a while I had thought she was alright, until one day when I was nineteen she suddenly announced that she HAD to leave London, that she was too unhappy here and everything reminded her of Dad. This surprised me, but I was opposed to moving.
What did surprise me was when she wanted to move across the world to Vancouver, Canada. It was a city Daddy apparently never visited, so it was perfect for us. So we packed up and moved to Canada, where we stayed until our early twenties when Edwina was finally ready to come back to Europe, but not England just yet. So we moved to Spain, and France, and Holland, and many other places. It wasn't until I was twenty-six and she was twenty-two that she announced that she was engaged and we'd be moving back to London. I don't think Edwina ever internalized Daddy's death like I did, but I wasn't about to push her to go to therapy. She'd find her own way of healing in her own time. As for me, I'm contented with my life so far.
Both with PhD and all those other foolish little things that make life worth living.
