Some Things Never Change [SHAWN MENDES]

June 20, 2021

"Anybody home?" I called out as I entered my family home in Pickering.

It was just before seven in the morning, but my internal clock was messed up so it felt later. My parents were always awake early, and we'd made plans for me to come at this time.

"We're on the patio!" my dad called back. "Get a coffee and join us."

I desperately needed some caffeine since I'd arrived home late last night after completing the European leg of my tour. It had been quite an experience. I endured a coronavirus test every three days, and each one felt like my brains were being poked. My band and I played to enormous crowds at a dozen outdoor stadiums, but I'd foregone any interaction with my fans. I hardly got to enjoy the cities I traveled to and spent most of my time in my hotel room.

Not that I would have enjoyed much of anything while I struggled with grief. Andrew was the only person who knew about my loss, because we'd told my team that I'd stayed in Toronto for ten days to help Ceci recover from the accident. If this raised questions, no one directed them at me. I kept my hard periods of grieving confined to when I was alone in my suite. I'd often cry myself to sleep as I longed for the baby I was never going to meet. Sometimes I'd call my mum and talk to her about it, and her calm demeanor always helped. She'd sent me articles and book excerpts to read that made me realize that what I was feeling was normal. I texted Ceci and repeatedly told her I was there if she wanted to talk, but she only took me up on the offer a couple times. I didn't really have a sense of how she was doing, but I planned to find out later this morning.

I made a black coffee using the fancy machine I'd given my folks last Christmas and walked outside to where they were sitting at the round glass-topped table. They stood up and embraced me in warm hugs which I'd been looking forward to since I'd woken up at five this morning. We then sat down.

"How are you feeling?" my mum asked, her voice thick with worry. I knew she wasn't referring to my jet lag.

"The same. I have my good days and bad days. I tell myself that a lot of people go through this, but that doesn't really help when I'm feeling low."

"Lisa and Eric were over for dinner last night. They said that Ceci doesn't like to talk about it. They're concerned about her," she said before she took a sip from her mug.

"I'm going to see her later. If she seems off, I'll let you know."

The time I'd spent with Ceci after we'd lost the baby had been rough. She'd declined her parents' offer to come home with them and instead went to her tiny apartment. The plan was that I'd stay with her during the day, making sure she ate and took care of herself. Sleeping turned out to be the hardest thing for her, so I stayed over every night until it was time for me to return to Europe. The only reason I was willing to leave then was because she insisted so adamantly, and I didn't want to fight with her.

We'd stayed distracted by watching every streaming movie and series that was interesting to us both, but that didn't include a pregnancy or baby. We had food delivered and wore nothing but pajamas or sweats. Sometimes she wanted to talk about what had happened, but mostly she wanted to avoid the subject. This was hard on me because she was the only other person who knew what I was feeling, and I really wanted to open up to her about my pain.

My parents and I talked about the tour. For the first time ever, they hadn't come to any of my European shows. Fucking covid ruined that. They were, however, planning to attend several of my North American dates in the fall.

We also discussed my plans for the summer. My two focuses would be writing music and finding new causes for my foundation to champion. I'd be spending most of my time in Toronto, with occasional trips to New York or Los Angeles.