ELEVEN HOURS of Soul Searching

Scent Of A Soul

I take my luggage and stand in front of my childhood house for a brief moment.

I've been gone for ten years, but it feels so good to be back to my roots.

And I am not the same person I was when I left. And I never will be. I am much stronger and wiser now.

Had I known back then, how it all ends, would I had done it all over again?

Absolutely.

It made me who I am now.

I look at my mothers front garden. As beautiful as ever. Neatly mowed grass and rows of perfectly trimmed bushes and flowers.

I look up to check my bedroom's window. The dreamcatcher I hanged there all those years ago is still there.

And when I am about to walk in, I see in the window next door familiar silhouette.

I smile gently and wave at her, then wait for her to come out, knowing that the encounter was inevitable.

She's got older and got a belly, but still rocks those high heel shoes.

She holds a glass in her hand, but her eyes give away that's not an orange juice she's drinking.

'Your parents mentioned you were coming back home' - she takes a sip and gets ready to deliver Agatha's finest welcome speech - 'I follow your career from the beginning. You have got off to a good start but obviously couldn't take pressure of fame. It's so easy to get into drugs and alcohol.' 

No shit.

Her tone is so condescending that normally - it would have made me furious. But not today. Nothing can ruin today.

'Do you really believe in everything that you read in newspapers?' I ask her realising she hasn't changed a bit. If anything, she became even more shrewish and mean.

How dares she speak to me like that? After all, I've been through, she belittles me. I worked so hard for my success, even though she told me to quit.

At least I've tried to live my life truly and to the fullest. I took all the chances life offered, and I cannot blame myself for anything.

It's not a failure that I come back home. It's a temporary solution before I figure out what to do next; before I take another opportunity.

It's part of the experience we call life.

And I suddenly realise that I don't owe her any explanation. She hasn't used her chances. Instead, she let the grief overcome her and dictate the whole life for her.

She didn't fight and claw her way up when she hit rock bottom. She let the bitterness overcome her soul because that was the easiest choice.

And the monster I was so afraid of as a kid, finally becomes a human - as  vulnerable as anyone else.

In front of me stands a woman who hasn't felt love for decades.

So I come closer to her, and to her surprise, I hug her.

'It's nice to see you again, Agatha.'

She stands there stunned by what just happened.

She tries to say something, but not even a word comes out.

That's something new.

'What was that?' She finally utters.

'That was me saying thank you.'

'For what?'

'For giving me all those years ago, the key for success.'

She looks perplexed, and probably not even remembers when she gave it away in anger in her bedroom that memorable summer evening.

'I would have never got that far if that wasn't for you.'

And again I smell that strong scent of lavender.

'What is this smell? It's been puzzling me for years.'

'What smell?'

'The smell of lavender. It's all-around your house, and I smell it on you now. It follows you wherever you go.'

'That's impossible.' She nearly yells those words, as if that was the most absurd thing she has ever heard. 'I cannot stand it, since...,' she pauses.

'Since he passed away.' I finish for her.

'He loved lavender. He used to grow it in the garden.' Her eyes become watery. 'I am sorry I have to go.' And she closes the door behind her.

Some souls stay on earth among people unable to part with them. And the love between Agatha and the man from the picture must have been strong enough to hold him still be her side.

After a while, I finally see my two favourite people.

They observe me with caution, not sure what mood I am in, but I run to them and fall into their arms, as I used to, when I was a little girl. And we all cry tears of joy.

'Don't just stand there, come inside. It's very nippy today.' My mum puts her arm around me and pushes me inside, while dad brings in my luggage.

'How was the flight?'

'Let's say I am not planning to fly anywhere anytime soon.'

And as we walk in - the most divine smell teases my nostrils - the smell of a shepherds pie.