― Catherine Brusk
After I left Jake I intended to go home but found myself taking a detour.
I drove for about twenty minutes down county roads and pulled into a small graveyard.
I hadn't been here since mother died but felt drawn to come back—I wasn't sure why.
I knew one thing—her death was a watershed moment in my life. Nothing was ever the same afterward.
Her plot was located on a slight rise of land sheltered by a pine tree and overlooking a small creek. She chose it and somehow that's why the surroundings seemed significant for me.
The setting was reminiscent of one of her paintings, a natural scene with perfect composition—like our life before she died.
Even as I walked up the incline toward it, I felt I was drawing near to her.
The ground beside her grave had recently been turned where my father had been interred—my father who became distant and secretive after her death.
He left me at the same time so I was effectively orphaned, left alone to fend for myself.
And as I stood there staring down at their place of rest, I felt a chasm open inside me and realized I was alone on this earth.
And then it hit me—why I had been drawn to Isabel—to a familiar kindness and warmth.
I hadn't come back to claim an inheritance—I came back here to find my soul—the part of me that was missing that mother always awakened.
Yes, I was momentarily blinded by Jake's remarks about wealth, but I knew money only got you stuff and what I needed couldn't be bought off a shelf.
Suddenly, I felt a deep longing to be home with Isabel and Frizzy. It was the only thing that deeply mattered to me and it was what I had been missing for far too long.
I wanted a home—not a fancy house, but a person I could confide in and count on. I wanted love.
I had found in the graveyard what I had come for and so I left, and later when I pulled into the driveway of my parents’ house, I realized it was once again a home—safe in a place of love.
I opened the door to Frizzy’s plaintive mews and scooped her into my arms, holding her close and telling her she was safe—nothing would harm her.
I was consoling her but reminding myself I had paternal feelings inside me—the need to shelter and protect, nurture and love.
I wanted to phone Isabel and tell her but suppressed the urge. It had only been a few days but my life had totally changed.
And I liked the way I felt.