Winter People

by Gráinne Murphy

was a kindness to offer. An equal kindness to refuse. Nothing killed a friendship faster than one person burdening another. Friendship depended on both parties being free to choose to be there. Never be beholden, her father used to warn her. ‘Let me get settled first and

Sis was hardly the only one with more family behind her than ahead of her.

There was a pair of them in it, she wanted to tell the town. It wasn’t one single decision that got her where she was; it was a lifetime of them.

If Frank didn’t turn out to be who she had imagined, it wasn’t his fault. He had no more control over the excesses of her imaginings than she had over the shortcomings of his behaviour. People were who they were.

God forgive her but she hated men who let the little mean bit of power they had go to their heads. There was no excuse for it. As if every human being wasn’t entitled to respect.

It wasn’t like losing myself, Doreen, although I know you’ll appreciate the dramatic sentiment better than anyone. It was more that the bits of myself that I liked were all wrapped up in the idea of who we were together. Your father knew me as young and old and all the ages in between. Every fibre of my being and my becoming. You children only ever saw me as fixed and finished. Children never see the road. I hope you won’t take it the wrong way if I say that that’s part of the problem and part of the solution, too. Maybe you will find that out for yourself

Imagine! You meeting my friends when you come to visit, before taking me out for a spin to the town or to the beach or somewhere we can sit and talk the gentle talk of people who have made their peace with each other. When I think about joy, that is what I think about.

might be modern to talk of the family you make, but spare a little space for the family that made you too. There’s love enough to go around if we can look beyond the wrongs of the past and know that we are loved. Whether first or last, we are loved.