Open Writing

The memories flooded back, as I walked the familiar path of yesteryear. Tears filled my eyes and the hurt began all over again. What the hell was I doing? I asked myself. I did not have to do this. But something inside drove me on and I found myself outside the house. My house of horrors.

Was it really forty years since I had walked down this street? Now here I was and I intended to 'lay the ghost of the past.'

What was I doing here you ask. I asked myself the same question as I walked the final steps to the house. I knocked on the door and realised my hand was shaking.

The irony of my school friend from, so long ago, buying my old home hit me, as she opened the door and hugged me. You didn't have to come my demons screamed at me. You could have found an excuse. Why hadn't I? Because for the first time in my life I knew I could cope with, and beat my demons. Taking a deep breath I walked into the house.

What a difference Bridie had made. The ground floor was now all open-planning and looked so much lighter. It was lovely, yet as I sat on the lounge all I could see was a bed and memories of the day I gave birth to my son in that room.

Bridie was so bubbly and excited at seeing me; she insisted on showing me over the whole house.

'You must see what we have done to the bedrooms, Violet.'

With that she almost dragged me up the stairs. The main bedroom now had an en-suite and they had a big sliding door leading out onto a lovely veranda. I had to agree it was lovely and congratulated Bridie, for what that had achieved with the old place. But not even that could stop my memories of the beatings and hell I had suffered in that room. I could still smell the drink off my ex-husband as he fell up the stairs and reeled though the door in a drunken stupor. I was so glad to get back downstairs.

I was about to make my excuses and get away, thinking I had made a terrible mistake when the man next door walked in. Sweeping me up in his arms he gave me a big kiss. I was surprised.

'John Baker! Fancy you still here,' I laughed. John had been a teenager and lived next door with his parents, when I had moved in. John told me his parents had passed away and he had decided to stay.

'Thought I would wait for you to come back for me,' he laughed. From that moment on everything changed.

'We did have fun, didn't we?'

'Yes we sure did. But we all knew what was going on, Violet. And the whole neighbourhood applauded when you finally got your divorce and got on with your life.'

I could only manage a quiet 'thank you'‚ before John continued, as Bride carried in a tray of tea and cakes.

'Enough sadness'. He smiled, helping himself to an iced cake. 'Do you remember the bonfire nights? They were so much fun and everyone joined in.'.

'Oh yes,' I replied. How well I remembered the Guy Fawkes celebrations in our street. They were the talk of the town and people came from far and wide just to see our fireworks.

'Yes and we had the biggest fire and best looking Guy Fawkes too,' John laughed, as he turned to Bridie. 'You used to come with Bob and the two little ones, remember?'

'I sure do remember.' Bridie sat down beside me. 'I remember your hot dogs and toffee apples too.'

Oh, my toffee apples. I had almost forgotten the fun of making all the toffee apples and hot dogs for the bonfire nights. The happy laughter; the fireworks, the smell of the smoke. The last embers of the fire used by the older children to cook baked potatoes in their jackets. Happy memories of the whole neighbourhood celebrating Guy Fawkes' night. Like a sudden flash the realization hit me. THERE WERE HAPPY MEMORIES!

My unhappiness had blocked out the good times. The rest of the day was spent recalling even more happy times. After forty years I had finally laid the ghost of the past. Replaced the pain with laughter and allowed the healing to take place.

Many times we are told we should never go back. We should leave the past behind us. I think in many cases that is true, but when there is a ghost to be laid, we should seriously consider facing it. I am so glad I did.

© Violet Apted