He chuckles. ‘Are you a regular visitor here?’
Shaking my head, I stuff my hands into my coat pockets. ‘First time in ages. Haven’t been here for a few years.’
The man nods. ‘The early years are the hardest. It takes a long time for you to accept they are somewhere else. Can I ask what’s brought you here today?’
‘He’s been on my mind a lot this year. Not sure why as he’s been gone nearly ten years.’
We both go silent and listen to the wind chasing its tail around the cemetery.
‘Maybe you needed to do some more grieving for him?’
‘Is that how it works?’
He casts me a knowing smile. ‘Grief is an odd thing. It is like a distant friend you don’t see very often and who one day turns up out of the blue bringing with them a box filled with painful memories.’
Nudging a pile of snow with my boot I think back to those days after the car accident when Lawrence had died, and I’d survived with barely a scratch. All I could think about was how God chose the wrong brother.
‘The thing is,’ explains the old man, ‘you have to look through the box of painful memories. There’s no point in trying to avoid it because this friend will keep turning up unexpected and unannounced.’
Scratching the back of neck, I fight the urge to walk away. ‘I was with my brother in the car when he died. He was driving and lost control.’
The old man nods and stares at Lawrence’s grave. ‘I bet you still blame yourself – don’t you?’
I nod. ‘I’m his older brother. That’s what older siblings are meant to do – protect the younger ones.’
‘You have to accept that it was out of your control. I bet it happened in the blink of an eye.’
Lawrence’s gravestone has gone blurry. ‘I’ve tried my hardest not to think about him for years, to block out the pain, but then my girlfriend’s nephew told me he was interested in going to ballet classes. Lawrence went to ballet when he was young too and…’ My voice grows weak.
‘Your distant friend called grief turned up on your door – eh?’ the man asks.
‘Yes,’ I say, blinking away hot tears. ‘So did the anger, the frustration and the sadness. I also allowed myself to be tricked by someone who I thought was a friend. As a result, my girlfriend, who I love very much, split up with me and I’ve been a mess ever since.’
I feel him pat me on the back. ‘I’m sorry, I really am. Grief can get you into all sorts of trouble.’
Kicking the snow away from the grave I let out a sigh. ‘I believed the lies this friend told me about my brother. They were all lies.’
‘You’re the only person who knew your brother.’
We both stand and watch the wind play with the snowflakes which are starting to fall.
‘Stop beating yourself up,’ says the old man. ‘It’s not worth it. We all make mistakes. Your brother wouldn’t want you to live a life of sadness.’ He pats me on the shoulder again. ‘As I said before, when your friend grief turns up unannounced and without warning, you have to invite it inside and look through the memories it has brought you. Closing the door on it will only make things worse. It sounds like you’ve been shutting the door on grief for a long time. Don’t be afraid of it or the uncomfortable memories it wants you to experience.’
I remember my first visit back to Lawrence’s old ballet school with Felix. I honestly thought that, as it has been so long since Lawrence died, being back at the ballet school would not affect me. All I wanted to do was see Felix happy again.
‘Your girlfriend’s nephew – did he enjoy the ballet classes?’
With a smile I nod. ‘Felix claimed it was the best thing he’d ever done. He’s stopped dancing now.’
‘Oh, why’s that?’ The old man casts me a look of concern.
‘My girlfriend’s sister died suddenly. His mum. Ballet reminded him of her.’
I watch the old man bend down to clear snow away from his wife’s stone. ‘Grief isn’t always bad, you know. A few months before Sheila passed away, she took over an allotment. Nice little patch it was, overlooking the sea. Sheila planted all sorts of vegetable seeds. Sadly, she died before all her hard work came to fruition. I hadn’t been a gardener up until that point. When grief kept coming to my door in the months that passed, I found solace on Sheila’s allotment. That patch of ground has become my pride and joy. It got me through some tough times, and I met my partner, Jill, there too.’
‘Wow – that’s great.’
He straightens up and knocks his gloved hands together to rid them of snow. ‘Perhaps grief is trying to show you a new direction in your life. One which will help you reconnect with your brother.’
