It has been about 2 weeks since I have seen my grandfather since he has left. Life alone has its perks. On the other hand, playing chess against yourself only gets you so far. The majority of my days are filled with laying on the beach. The clouds tell stories, an infinite number of times. I've been growing more and more detached with everything. I hardly think about the life I used to have before I came here.
It's in the early days of May, and my birthday is coming up. Equipped with a shovel and some string and wood, I make my way up to the hill where my grandfather buried - the memory of - her all these years ago. At the top of the hill lies a beautiful grass plain, and I make my way to where I'm heading. Her grave looks as if it hasn't aged a year, as the memory he kept for all these years. "In memoriam Nicole - Difficile longum subito deponere amorem. Tempus fugit, amor manet." I read from the improvised tombstone, engraved with what I think was a chisel. I tidy up the grime that has collected in the weeks my grandfather hasn't been here. I place back upright the tilted clay vase, pick a flower from the nearby field, and place it in. Next to hers, I place his. From the little scraps of Latin I remember, I carve "Semper una".
My grandfather always used to tell me that even though she had passed away long ago, they still talked. He would tell her how his day went, he would tell her how much he loved her. And even though she never replied, it made him feel whole again. During that small period of time, he would feel happy again, because he would be with her. I used to never understand when he told me, I thought he was going crazy. As I grew up, as I loved, as I lost, I understood. I came to understand the pain and the healing.
Leaving the graves, I walked for a couple of minutes up until I made my way up to the cliff side. As I stood there, towering over the gaping ocean, I felt powerless. I felt weak, but amazed at the same time. I sat down, my feet dangling over 200 feet of nothingness. I closed my eyes, and as if a stroke of wind, I felt something touch my shoulder. I flinched and looking, but there was nothing. I closed my eyes again and then I heard the voice I'd missed for so long.
"It's been so long," the voice whispered, "you cannot believe how much I've missed you." And as if lightning struck I started crying. I sat there for what felt like an eternity, crying my eyes out. "Don't cry," she said "there was a time for that and it has long gone." And in my mind she wiped the tears from my eyes, and looked at me. And even though she wasn't there, it was as if she stood right before me. -"I've had to miss you. For so much. For all this time. For all what has happened. It's just so unfair." I said almost angrily, twisting the grass between my fingers. "I feel I have done so wrong by you. I never wanted to listen to anything. I wanted to push it out when all you really needed was me. I wanted to act as if it wasn't real." "I know you did." She said, and I felt a warmth come over me as if her smile made it all alright again. "You were a kid, you were my kid," she said jokingly, "how could I ever blame you for that. It's not something you should ever have to suffer through."
We spent the next hour or so talking about what we should've talked about so many years ago. It was as if all the sorrow was gone from the world I was in. There were no more bridges. No more barriers. The bridges had been burnt, the barriers crossed. After a long silence, she spoke again. "I believe this place has finally served its purpose, no?" -"What do you mean?" "It has matured you. You have moved on from the sadness. Maybe it's time to say goodbye again." -"I don't want to. I'll never get to see you again." "Hasn't your grandfather told you anything? Whenever you need me, I'll be listening, just talk to me." She sad complacently. -"So then how do I get away from here?" "Sometimes all you need a little push to get where your going to end up." A loud bang startled me, and as I tried to look back I lose my grip on the edge of the cliff. I fell. I closed my eyes again and came to terms with it.
As a chill went through me I opened my eyes again. I'm sitting on a park bench. I gaze out to the stars when suddenly. -"What are you thinking about?"I heard, looking at the pond in front of us "The behaviour of ducks." I say stupidly. She smiles, and as she does she grips my hand even more firmly. I look at her for a while and say nothing. We sit there, and even though we don't talk, it feels like nothing I have ever had before. It feels just right. No awkwardness. For the first time since all this shit started happening, I felt happy again. A feeling I hadn't felt for so long. Right there, the night could've stopped. Right there and then.
The tragedy of this world is that no one is happy, whether stuck in a time of pain or of joy. - Alan Lightman
