The Angel of the Ocean

Talking It Out

I decided to take a detour from my normal route home. The journey seemed so uncomfortable at first, but as I got closer it became familiar. I had walked those roads many times, the now silent air had been filled with laughter and sometimes screams of happiness.

Everything was so different now. As the butterfly had flown off of my shoulder, I had felt as if my fear and anger had been released, and had floated away with it.

I was approaching what had been my second home for so long. I knew every inch of the place, the lay of the land and where each flower grew. Yet, as my hand made contact with the door, it all began to slowly return.

The emotions I had fought so hard originally to conceal and then to release seemed to be rapidly diffusing into me, filling me up. I was contemplating leaving once more, when the door which I had hardly knocked on opened.

Before me stood a man I had once known so well. Now, however, he was changed- his hair had become more grey, his face retained a frightening pallor and his eyes showed the sheer calamity of what he had gone through.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...” I began, as I turned away in the direction of the small country lane way.

“Please Emilia. Please, come in.” It was clear from the tone of his voice that his offer was not forced. I wondered if I would have such courage if it were me. Would I be able to face seeing the person who allowed the death of my only child to happen?

I followed him into the sitting-room. Nothing had changed. The book she had been reading was still open on the armchair on the chapter that she had been telling me about. It was clear that he was trying to preserve what was left of her existence. I doubted if he would ever change anything, that book would remain there forever.

“How have you been?” he questioned as he sat down on the armchair opposite the couch that I was seated on. A teapot stood proudly in the centre of the table and I gratefully accepted the cup he offered to me. It's warmth in my hands seemed to thaw out my nerves and I finally chose to answer.

“I have been okay, I guess. What about you?” I replied. My eyes were focused on his. I was anxiously searching for any sign of anger in them.

“In all honesty Emilia, I feel like everything I have known has been ripped from underneath me. Everything ended for me that day.” Tears began to form in the corner of his eyes, but he didn't shed them.

“I am so sorry Isacc, it's all my fault...” I stuttered. In a quick fluid motion, he had stood up and sat down on the sofa beside me.

“Never say that Emilia. There was nothing you could have done.” He wrapped his arms around my body and the relief instantly washed over me. He wasn't angry, he didn't blame me. “It was a tragic incident. Nobody could have prevented it.”

Absolution. I had spent so long creating a list of the reasons why I was to blame that I never believed anybody could think that I wasn't. However, his words brought enormous comfort to me, like nothing had previously been able to do.

I was certain that Drew had somehow guided my decision to come and visit her father. We were the two people who knew her best, whose world revolved around her. Without her, our worlds had shattered, but it appeared that we both received solace from speaking about it together. I spent several hours talking everything through with him.

We understood what each other was going through like nobody else ever could have. The butterfly had managed to assure me that Drew was still there with me, even if it wasn't in person and her father's company had shown me that I was not alone in my grief. We were both going through it.

Finally I felt relief and hope.