EPILOGUE
I step outside and tilt my face toward the sky, soaking up the late morning sunshine. Someone calls goodbye to me and I turn to wave at my yoga instructor, Lexi.
It’s been three months since that day at Birch Hill when something in me snapped. My life looks the same on the outside, but it feels like everything has changed. And almost all of it, thankfully, is for the better.
My family doctor officially diagnosed me with depression, and with his and Hugh’s help I’ve been seeing a therapist for a little over two months. Dr. Langdon has been incredible; our sessions are often painful, and I cry more often than not, but in getting me to acknowledge my grief and anger, I’ve begun the process of healing. Dr. Langdon has a touch of the new age to her, which I connected with immediately, and she recommended I try yoga and meditation, which have been game changers for me.
With my mind quiet and my limbs wonderfully loose, I leave the yoga studio and start walking toward the café where I’m meeting Kieran for lunch. I pause outside the Canadian Mental Health Association and look over the fliers in the window. I smile when I see one for Human Touch Companions, but it’s the Grief Support Group poster that catches my attention, as it has been doing the last few weeks. Dr. Langdon thinks it would be a good idea if I attended, but I told her I feel like a fraud because my mom is still alive.
“That doesn’t make your grief any less real, Meredith,” she has said more than once in that calm, measured way of hers. “You’re allowed to feel what you feel, and your emotions are valid. These people will understand.”
I’m still not sure. Crying on Kieran’s shoulder or to my friends or in Dr. Langdon’s office is one thing, but breaking down in front of a group of strangers…hearing their tales of suffering and loss…it makes my chest tighten just thinking about it. Ivy and Hugh have both offered to go with me since they’ve lost their parents, and while I love them for it I’ve put it in my ‘maybe’ category for now.
I continue down the street to the café. I don’t see Kieran yet and our favorite outdoor table is free, so I claim it. Rifling around in my purse, I pull out the latest book for Piper’s book club and the journal that goes with me everywhere. I started it at Dr. Langdon’s suggestion, as a place to write my general thoughts and feelings. She eventually urged me to slowly start digging deeper and write about some of the things we discuss in our sessions. It hurt like hell at first and there were a few times I ended up chucking the notebook across the room in a fit of tears, but now I actually enjoy it.
In fact, it’s become such a big part of my everyday life, I actually have fun with it now. Especially since Dr. Langdon told me it’s time I start thinking about traveling again. “You’re a traveler, Meredith,” she said one day a few weeks ago. “It seems to be in your blood, yet you’ve been in one place for a long time now. I understand it was out of necessity at first, but you know your mother is being well looked after at Birch Hill, and you’re not under the same financial strain you were even just a few months ago. Let go and allow yourself to start dreaming. Start planning. You have a bright future ahead of you and you’re allowed to be excited about it.”
So that’s what I’m doing. I started by writing down simple things I want to do with Kieran and my friends this summer and fall, and then I worked up to bigger things and even things I want to do next year. Dr. Langdon has pointed out again and again that Mom would want me to live fully. She told me so herself before she began to slip away. Mom always said my lust for life amazed and inspired her, made her want to be better anddobetter. Thinking about that was a source of suffering at first because I was still trying to reconcile the vibrant woman who raised me with the stranger I saw at Birch Hill. But it slowly got easier, and I’ve learned to redirect my thoughts to something positive when the hurt and anger try to take over.
I’m learning to accept the fact there’s no miracle cure for depression, and no timeline either. Even though my good days are starting to outweigh the bad ones, I still feel the darkness lurking. I still have days where it’s a struggle to get out of bed or it feels like I’m slogging through quicksand during my workday. But I’m adjusting to my new normal, and to life without Mom. That light inside me that I was worried was buried forever has been flickering to life and growing stronger. It’s a work in progress.I’ma work in progress and that’s okay.
“Dear Diary, Kieran asked me to run away with him and I said yes!”
I laugh as Kieran swoops down and plants a noisy kiss on my cheek. “Actually, it’s more like ‘Dear Diary, a completely mad but hella sexy Irishman convinced me it was time for adventure…’”
His laughter cuts me off. “I like the ‘hella sexy’ part. Feel free to use that more often.”
“I will.” I tilt my face up for a proper kiss. Kieran covers my mouth with his, kissing me as if we haven’t seen each other in weeks, even though we just saw each other two hours ago. I’ll never get tired of that.
The waitress comes to our table as Kieran sits down, and we both order iced coffee and a sandwich. The architect he’s been working for part-time since the beginning of summer holidays is nearby, so this has become our routine on my days off.
“So,” Kieran says. His eyes are brighter than usual and he can barely contain the grin spreading across his face. It takes me a moment to catch on, and when I do my heart leaps and a grin of my own stretches over my face.
“They’re here?”
“They’re here.” He pulls an envelope from the small satchel he carries around with his drawing pad and various tools. “They arrived this morning and I printed them off at work.”
He extends the envelope across the table. Instead of releasing it when I grip it, he holds on until I meet his eyes again.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Positive. Are you?” I may be doing better, but that doesn’t stop doubts and worries from creeping in occasionally, especially where Kieran is concerned. We’ve been through so much—I’veputhim through so much—and there’s still a tiny part of me that fears he’ll grow tired of me. Thankfully, that part is shrinking as Kieran proves over and over he’s not going anywhere and he wants a future with me.
He releases the envelope and reaches for my hand, clutching it tightly. “Yes. No doubts whatsoever. This is going to be epic, Meredith.”
Excitement bubbles in my stomach and I can’t help the giddy giggle that comes with it. “Itisgoing to be epic.” I open the envelope and pull out two plane tickets from Toronto’s Pearson Airport to London’s Heathrow, dated three weeks from today.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever thank your mom for paying for these,” I say.
“When she had the tickets sent this morning, she said she knew you’d say that. She wanted me to assure you that, and I quote, ‘Continue loving Kieran and being good to each other, and that’s all the payment I’ll ever need’.”
I aim for a light, “Aww,” but it comes out sounding choked. Kieran’s dad is still as awful as he said he was right from our first meeting, and his siblings aren’t my favorite people in the world, but his mom is truly lovely. She and I talk on the phone regularly, and while she’s completely different from my own mom, having her in my life has helped ease some of my grief.
Kieran squeezes my hand. “You’ve made all the arrangements with Fiona?”
“We’re all set. We’ll be staying with her until the tour starts, and then all our transportation and accommodation are taken care of as part of the tour.”
Thefully paid fortour. Fiona and I have kept in touch, and when I continued turning down offers to work for On the Go Adventures as anything other than a blogger, she asked if I’d be interested in taking another of her tours and writing about it, this time from the perspective of someone traveling with a romantic partner. On the Go is known for being popular with solo travelers and groups of friends, but they want to branch out and draw in more couples. With Kieran’s input, I’ll be writing an in-depth series about the two-week tour through England, Scotland, and Ireland from a couple’s perspective.
