That’s why people celebrate, I tried to explain to you. It’s the one day a year they do think about it. They take stock, think about changes they want to make. To celebrate what’s been, what’s yet to come. That’s good, isn’t it?
You’re just saying exactly what everyone else says. For one day a year, they think about the important stuff that the rest of the time they forget. But you know what I mean. I know you do.
You were right. But you were more aware than anyone else I’d met. An empath, who felt the pain of the world – I had no idea where it had come from, that part of you. Most people didn’t appreciate that the beginning of each new day wasn’t to be taken for granted. For a long time, I was one of them, when I should have celebrated every second of every day of my life that had you in it. But too often, we only treasure things after we’ve lost them.
‘I picked these on the way.’ I went to the garden this morning as the sun rose, watching it cast the landscape in early morning light. I lift the buckets of spring flowers onto the bench: the first parrot tulips, many kinds of narcissi, lengths of the cherry blossom you loved. ‘And these.’ I lift up another bucket filled with twigs bearing the tiniest of leaf buds.
‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’ Lucy gazes at them. ‘Best decision you made, growing flowers, Edie.’
‘I love it.’ I never used to be a gardener. But my cutting garden has become my sanctuary. ‘I saw Mary this morning. I gave her a bunch of tulips.’ In exchange for rent, we give her flowers.
‘What would we do without her?’ Lucy says.
‘We’d have found somewhere else. But it wouldn’t be anything like as lovely.’ I frown slightly. ‘She looked frail – it’s the first time I’ve thought that. I wonder if the house isn’t getting too much for her.’ The huge country house is where she’s lived most of her life. The sound of a phone buzzing reaches me. ‘Yours, I think,’ I say to Lucy.
She shakes her head. ‘It’s yours.’
Finding it, I see Ollie’s face on the screen. ‘Ollie! Hi! How are you?’
‘Jenna’s in labour,’ he says quickly. ‘We came in a couple of hours ago. I just thought you’d want to know.’
My mind empties. ‘Oh wow.’ Then, as I stand there, my brain kicks into gear. ‘You need to go, Oll. Send her my love. Good luck… Keep me posted…’ The call ends and I turn to Lucy, a feeling of wonder taking me over. ‘The baby’s coming.’ Ollie and Jenna’s baby. My first grandchild.
It’s just as well it isn’t the busiest of days. Instead of focused on work, my mind is completely scattered. The arrival of the baby takes me back – to when Ollie made his entrance into the world. In a hurry, we only just made it into the hospital. Then a couple of years later, after a long, protracted labour as if you were reluctant in some way, you were born.
The call comes later that afternoon. ‘The baby’s here.’ Ollie sounds giddy, breathless. ‘They’re both fine, Mum. She’s beautiful.’
‘Oh.’ For a moment, I’m speechless. ‘Oh, Ollie. Of course she is!’ Babies are stardust, magic, joyful. ‘This is the best news! Congratulations!’
‘Thanks, Mum! I still can’t believe it.’ He sounds slightly dazed.
It’s how I felt, when Ollie, then you, came into the world. Disbelieving, almost, that after all the waiting, you were here. ‘You probably want some time to yourselves… But let me know when I can come and see her.’
‘Come any time,’ he says. ‘We can’t wait for you to meet her.’
‘Then I’ll come on my way home!’ My mind is already buzzing. ‘I’ll see you soon.’ Putting down my phone, I gaze at Lucy.
‘You’re a grandma!’ Lucy says. ‘Look at you! You love it already, don’t you?’ She pauses. ‘I can’t wait for Mia to have one.’
‘It feels like the next best thing to having your own.’ I can’t keep the smile off my face.
I’m on cloud nine as the next hour passes. After leaving work early, on my way home, I call in to the hospital.
Jenna looks tired, but her eyes shine with love as she holds her tiny baby. ‘Edie! Thank you for coming.’ She glances down at her, then back at me. ‘Meet your granddaughter!’
‘Oh!’ I’m transfixed. I’ve forgotten how tiny newborn babies are, how miraculous the beginning of a new life is. I look at Jenna, then Ollie. ‘She’s gorgeous.’ I pause. ‘Have you decided on her name?’
‘Harriet Alexia,’ Ollie says softly. ‘Are you OK with that?’
Alexia, named for you. ‘How could I not be?’ My eyes blur as I gaze at your namesake. ‘It’s perfect.’ I look at them both. ‘It’s the loveliest name.’
Jenna smiles. ‘We thought so.’ She glances at Ollie. ‘We’re going to call her Harrie for short.’
‘I like that too.’ Harrie, I whisper, touching one of her tiny hands; very slowly she stretches, as if she knows.
Harrie’s arrival makes me think of you; how you would have loved being her auntie. She also signifies the beginning of a brand-new chapter; perhaps the closing of a door on an old one. The only problem being that I’m not ready to let go of those old ones.
There have been many chapters in our lives. Many doors that close. And there are those that stay cracked open, long after they shouldn’t.
