The Cypress Maze

by Fiona Valpy

We always know our firsts . . . But we rarely know our lasts until it’s too late,

I think grief is a bit like that, I tell you. You become trapped in it and no one can really help you get out. Of course, other people can support you, keep you company, perhaps even distract you sometimes. But you have to go through the struggle yourself to become strong enough to survive life after loss.

Living this now

‘There are seasons of grief, Tess, just like there are in the garden . . . a frozen winter that it seems will never end; then a spring thaw, when hope returns, bringing with it the promise of summer. That’s when the memories return – the good ones, the ones you thought had died.’ She glances up at me, making sure I understand. ‘But there’s an autumn too. A letting go. A time when you start to forget again. I suppose without that ending there can be no new beginning. It’s nature’s way.’