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lugubrious
but she felt sad too, because it is always sad when someone you have known as a child finally grows up, and you know that they will never be truly young again.
“You mustn’t be sorry. You’ve got to be glad that there was just time enough for her to go back to Cornwall before she died. She loved every moment of it. I think, for her, it was like being young again. She never ran out of energy or enthusiasm. Every day was filled. She didn’t waste a single moment.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. She may not have believed in God, but I’m pretty certain God believed in her.”
“Not really. Just realistic. If I have to live with this thing for the rest of my life, then that’s what I’ll have to do.”
“Oh, Danus, I don’t need the earrings for remembrance. I have a thousand things to remember her by.”
She mustn’t forget any of the things that Mumma really liked; not just lovely music, and having people to stay, and growing flowers, and ringing up for long chats just when you most hoped she would. But other things—like laughter, and fortitude and tolerance, and love.
As long as Mumma was alive, she knew that some small part of herself had remained a child, cherished and adored. Perhaps you never completely grew up until your mother died.
September has come, it is hers Whose vitality leaps in the autumn, Whose nature prefers Trees without leaves and a fire in the fireplace.
A furnace heat flowed up, scorching her cheeks, and she dropped Mumma’s secret into the heart of the glowing red coals and watched it burn. It took only seconds, and then was gone forever.
She would be like a nice aunt. No, not an aunt, a nice grandmother. It would be like having grandchildren. And it occurred to her then, that these grandchildren would be Cosmo’s grandchildren too. Which
