The Cypress Maze

by Fiona Valpy

A whole cottage to myself! But it wasn’t the prospect of Italian sunshine and Tuscan views I was thinking of. It was the thought of a space where you weren’t missing.

We always know our firsts: the first faltering steps a child takes; a first day at school; a first kiss. But we rarely know our lasts until it’s too late.

‘That planting the garden would be a sign that we believed in a tomorrow for our home and our country.’

‘I understand now that grief is love that has nowhere to go.

‘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.’

Like a butterfly in a chrysalis, the struggle through my grief is a necessary part of being able to escape and leave it behind, helping me grow strong enough to spread my wings and fly again.

‘This summer, I’ve come to understand the power of silence. It was the mechanism my father used to be able to keep going, but it also created a vacuum into which fear, distrust and misunderstanding seeped. I know now that silence allows doubt and fear to grow – and it needs to be broken.