LifeStyles

Sixty

The contrast of the last few days to today is huge. How the pendulum of life swings from carefree happiness one minute to anxious sorrow in one fell swoop.

Usually the radio plays but not this morning. Mum sympathetically tries to take my mind off the guilt in my hands by attempting a conversation about my 21st birthday celebrations next weekend. I continue to stare out of the car window in silence so she allows me the peaceful hush and concentrates on driving.  Only the purr of the engine now flows around us.

I have not uttered a word since it was placed in my trust. The small beech box sits cradled on my lap. I caress the shiny wood and it feels smooth beneath my thumb. The brass plaque in the centre of the lid reflects the golden sunlight glaring through the windscreen. The letters engraved into the metal are slightly raised and rough on the pads of my fingers. "Percy."

Once we arrive home, I head towards the kitchen. Harry and Dad are sharing a joke about something that happened yesterday in the tennis at Wimbledon. They cease their frivolity as soon as I walk in, veiling the kitchen in quietness. I avoid any eye contact, especially with Harry.  If I see my sadness reflecting back at me in his concerned eyes, I know it will break me and I need to remain strong.

"Right." Mum evaporates the tension by throwing her bag on the side and clapping her hands once together. "Tea everyone?"

"Yes, would you like me to make it?" Harry offers, quickly rising from his stool and scraping its feet across the tiles. The sound echoes through me like a screeching pain.

"No thanks, you are ok Harry, I've got it." She offers him a weak smile then busies herself filling the kettle.

As I stand looking out towards the garden and still clutching tightly onto the box, light conversation flows behind me. This is one of those awkward situations in life where no one knows what to say and therefore only small-talk prevails. Only Harry's hands that come to rest gently on my shoulders bring me out of my thoughtless trance.

"Are you ready?" His caring whispered words carry hesitancy because he knows the answer.

"No." I shake my head sorrowfully.

"You can do this. I am here and so are your family, you aren't alone." He gently tugs my shoulder, twisting my body to face him. My gaze remains fixated downwards but undeterred, his arm slides securely around my waist and his fingers splay with a comforting squeeze at my side. I tilt my head until it meets his shoulder and he guides me protectively outside.

We stroll slowly side-by-side towards the summer house. This cannot be rushed because Percy deserves more than that. I finally have the courage to look up at my parents and notice that my sister has joined us. When I catch her glance, she smiles reassuringly at me, her face full of the emotion eating me up from the inside out. Thomas is not here. He was given the choice but he said he wanted to remember Percy as he was and decided to go to school today instead. I totally respect his grown- up decision and told him so when I hugged him goodbye this morning.

I stand before the large planter that was one of Grandma's favourites. During the clear up, it nearly ended up in the skip until I rescued it citing sentimental reasons. Earlier, Dad half filled it in preparation and when I peer down into it, it strikes me that this is the final goodbye. I waver, gripping tightly onto the box, not wanting to let it go. The hesitation pools tears that blur my vision and quivers my bottom lip. I wipe away the first of many that will fall and stain my cheeks in grief today.

I stare down at the precious cargo in my hands. "I remember when we visited the farm. All the other puppies came bounding around my feet and then there you were. You held back at first but I noticed you straightaway; your cute face and fluffy ears. When I knelt down, you came to me and jumped up, placing your paws on my knees and nipping at my hand. I had to choose you; you were so perfect."