The Cypress Maze

by Fiona Valpy

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

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

it’s the struggle itself that gives the butterfly the strength to survive.’

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.

I learned that love heightens the senses and enhances each tiny moment of every day, so that even the most mundane of chores becomes filled with joy.

‘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.’

How far would any of us go for someone we love? The answer is, we’ll go as far as is needed.

Talking can be painful too, sometimes, but it stops grief from sinking its roots down into the dark loneliness of silence and wrapping its tendrils around your heart.

grief is love that has nowhere to go. At last, I’m exploring new directions, finding the way, navigating the paths that will transform my grief into new love. Creating a map of my own making.