Always My Child

Tentatively I rang the doorbell to this once familiar inner Sydney city cottage, crammed with cottage craft and complete with ducks wearing tartan ribbons . I reflected on how this homely place had always been one of lifes few constancies; Always exuding warmth and filled with the laughter of children and the smell of home cooked lasagne wafting from the kitchen. Just as I became lost in those memories the door slowly opened and a vulnerable and much paler Maggie Campbell appeared at the door.


I'm so glad you came.It's so good to see you.

Me too. I whispered a little awkwardly.

In usual Maggie Campbell fashion the tea cups had been laid out beautifully and the heart shaped shortbread biscuits she used to feed our children were arranged elegantly on a plate..

I remember, how silly of me, she exclaimed. You never did drink tea did you? You've always been a coffee girl. I'll get the coffee.
With that she scurried off to the kitchen, looking a little flustered and perplexed at the thought that we had known each other for years and that she had forgotten that I never drank tea. For the first time I didn't feel comfortable following her into the kitchen. As the smells of freshly brewed coffee emerged I mustered up the courage and walked towards the kitchen door. Do you need a hand?
No. I'm fine thanks it's done and I'll have coffee rather than tea with you. With that she proceeded back to the neatly laid coffee table and silently poured the coffee. I was reminded how property Maggie had always been and that although we had known each other for over 20 years there had always been a certain formality and stiffness about her. Don't get me wrong, she was always warm, yet even when we socialised and had fun together, I always sensed a barrier which prohibited closeness. Yet now, in the darkest time of her life she had turned to me for honesty and some answers. Though a little scared, I felt privileged that she had, and the only way to repay her was to give her the honesty she was so desperately searching for, even if it is was only from my personal perspective and experience.

We chatted light heartedly for a while and just as I noticed how soooo Maggie it was to be drinking coffee from the finest floral patterned Royal Albert China with matching plates, sugar bowl and creamer; out of a moments silence she quietly asked the question I had been dreading.

Tell me honestly. Will I ever get over it?

I took a moment to breathe and noticed her thick red hair as beautiful as ever; Her ruddy complexion sallowed and paled; her bubbly personality dampened and her spirit squashed. As I looked into her once deep blue glistening eyes, now cloudy deep wells of tears, pain and sadness, I answered an honest No.You just learn to live with it.

Maryse