Death on Holiday

Epilogue

That all happened 3 months ago now. Those horrible events that changed each of our lives. Mostly for the bad. Only a couple of good things have happened because of that holiday.

I'm standing at the end of the parallel bars, Harvey at the other. He has already hoisted himself out of the wheelchair, with me helping only a little. He's using his strong arms as crutches, and using the bars, he's slowly stepping towards me. He looks so determined. I love my boy.

Yes, that's right.

MY boy. My Harvey.

On that fatal day, 58 people ended up loosing their lives, many more injured. We think about them all every single day. Even those we never met, we're all connected now. We all have something in common. We will never forget those who died.

That holiday has changed us all. Not one of us in our three families forget about the disasters of that day, and not a day passes without thinking about poor Celeste, Charles, Chloe and Brendon. I think everyone on the cruise ship at that time will always think twice before completing certain tasks. Like booking holidays to New Zealand, or somewhere else with volcanoes, active or asleep. It shocked us all, made us more aware. It's a shame some of us had to suffer to learn this.

Any of us who were onboard Paradise at the time of the eruption and lost a family member or close friend catch up at these counseling sessions that were set up for us. There are ones in most capital cities in Australia, and online meetings too for those who cannot make it. I didn't think they'd do anything at the start, but hearing their stories actually does help. It's nice to know none of the poop people have been forgotten. They're remembered all the time. Each time we've attended, I've heard so many stories about boys just like Brendon that he probably knew from his kids' club, and adults like Celeste, Charles and Chloe. And we hear how everyone else is dealing with the pain. How they stop blaming themselves. Which is exactly what I used to do. Back on the ship, when Max and Harvey were still missing.

At home, in Sydney, we're managing. Mr Johnson, or Robert, still is depressed. And fair enough, is what I think. If I'd lost my wife and nearly two of my kids, I'd be in shock too. I understand his pain. It's much the same in the Watson family. Pheobe's adjusting to being the oldest in her family, and Luella, her mum, is slowly coming to an understanding about her husband's death. And then there's my family.

We've left Brendon's room alone, haven't pulled it apart, sold his belongings. That's what all the psych's say to do, but we can't bear to. I have days where I lay on his cold bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him. I wonder if he can hear me. Maybe cos I'm lying on his pillow, he can listen in on my thoughts? But we're getting there. We each have our days, but the counselling sessions help. A little.

Around us, the world continues to turn. The world doesn't and didn't wait for us to recover. Before we knew it, there was a tsunami in Japan, a hurricane in America, and our story was soon forgotten. But it doesn't deserve to go. It's a lesson we learnt, but others won't. And that's why I've written this.

At school, we're still the misfits; me, Max and Pheobe. And generally Harvey. Though now everyone looks at us through a new light. We're the four who survived a volcanic eruption. Barely, but we still did. And that brings some fame and hero-ship to our names and faces. It's mostly the same, though. Sure, Max has kept her hair pretty short, and Harvey, when he comes, is in a wheelchair. But everything else has returned to like it was before the incident. In some ways I'm glad, but it also makes it hard.

We've all been brought closer than ever. We each have days where the death gets too much, and we each have different ways of coping. Pheobe breaks down in tears. Max starts punching her punching bag, bought for the very reason. Harvey and I both go silent, but I beat myself up about it internally, whereas he has flashbacks. He notices me before it gets too bad though, and I do the same for him.

He's nearly made it to the end, slowly, one step after the other. His tongue is poking out of the side of his mouth, all cute-like. He knows I love it, but I know he isn't doing it on purpose. I love him, all of him. The fact that he's currently 'disabled' doesn't change my feelings at all, despite how much he argues that it must. I'm telling you now, I don't care. He's still my Harvey. And I know he's trying to walk again. I am so so proud of him.

He makes it to the end. His doctor leaves the room, as if he knows my unspoken plan.

"So?" he's grins at me. "How'd I do?" I can see the sparkles in his eyes already.

I lean into him. "Amazing, darling. I couldn't be prouder".

Just seeing his grin makes my own grow as well. "Aww, Em", he blushes.

"Well", I now say, leaning closer, placing my forehead against his. "Now it's time for your actual gift, for trying so hard".

I still haven't properly repaid him for the image he took of the cruise ship on that fatal day of the Mount Bellisle Eruption. Even though his camera had needed replacing (something I'd pushed for while he was in hospital), he'd managed to save the SD card. He'd shown me all the photos, as well as the final one; a perfect portrait of the beautiful landscape of the volcano, and the ship I'd been on at the time. He'd even embarrassingly admitted he had been thinking of printing it and giving it to me, all framed and everything, the night we returned home.

I lean forward, and press my lips against his softly. My boy follows, deepening out kiss, and holds me closer to help him stand. I hear his quiet moan, and match it with my own. My feet tingle, and my hand begins to play with the bottom of his hair. I need more of him, but I don't want to topple us over, so I simply hold his amazing body closer to me, holding his back and pressing him slightly against my own hips and torso.

Yes, we're a thing. Yes, I love him. If anything had happened to Harvey on Mount Bellisle, I wouldn't have gone on. We were some of the lucky ones. We both know it. These days we don't waste any time. Why wait when I can tell him I love him now? You never know what's around the corner. A harmless-sounding holiday, even, can change your life in an instant. Think about that. Don't delay. You love someone, you tell them. Don't leave them wondering their entire lives, like Nellie suffers today. Her and Phil never got the chance, and Connie's girlfriend suffers now. Don't wait. Please. Because you never know what will happen tomorrow. You could be here now, but in a few days' time inside a coffin. Let them know you like, or heck, love them. Give them that hug or kiss. Let them into your lives. Don't leave them wondering forever more.

Remember this story.

Let it become a role model for you.

I don't want anyone to suffer this heartbreak again.

Next time, think.

And remember.

Remember the gone: Celeste Johnson, Charles and Chloe Watson, Philip McKenzie, Connie Burns, Brendon Cooper.

Think if you were their loved ones. What would you want from them one last time?

Think about that.

The end.

For now.