As the plane taxied down the runway and lifted into the air Elizabeth felt her heart soar with it up above the clouds, a feeling of joy that emanated from within, spreading warmth and comfort around her aching heart.. She was going home. A lump came to her throat and tears threatened to spill because there was joy but sadness too. It was her first trip back without her beloved husband Jacques. She shook herself and sat up straighter as the steward handed out water and peanuts. The woman in the seat next to her passed them across and she automatically replied 'merci'. The woman smiled and asked her if she was French. Elizabeth took a breath and recited as she had for so many years,'I'm English but have lived in France for many years '
I have two grown up children, a daughter and a son and five grandchildren.' She could hear her daughter Delphine's voice and imagine the rolling of the eyes and saying something like 'TMI mum you don't have to tell everyone your life story.'
Delphine wasn't here though and the woman looked interested and introduced herself as Pauline. then she smiled and returned to her book, joining the army of thousands of travel companions that had lightened her journeys over the years with their smiles.
Elizabeth looked out of the window waiting for the moment when she could easily make out the English channel and as the coast of England came into sight her heart soared again. It was always such an emotional moment for her and along with the joy there was deep pain. the years of heartbreak of leaving her ailing parents and then the pain of knowing they were not waiting for her anymore. Her father had always told her never to organize a surprise visit, that for him there was so much joy in the preparation for her visit. He said there was a word for it in German 'Verfreude' a sense of joyful anticipation.
It was spring and she revelled in the atavistic pleasure of the passing of the four seasons. Each one had its charm, but in spring there was the added magic of her beloved bluebell woods in the Beech woods around her childhood home.
As a child she had picked bluebells with her sister Kathy and her mum had arranged them together with the first bright green beech leaves dipped in glycerine to keep them fresh. Picking wildflowers was frowned upon now and flowers like cowslips flourished on all the banks.
As the plane landed and there was a flurry of movement as overhead lockers were opened and a rush to exit the plane she felt again a sense of delightful anticipation mixed with the heartache of loss, pain and joy and then she saw her sister waiting by the Costa coffee her face lit up with love and arms enveloping her in a warm healing embrace. No words were needed between the sisters to express their deep emotions, the great love for their parents and each other, the sorrow of losing them and now Jacques, all these emotions were contained in their hug.
Kathy nuzzled into Elizabeth's neck, then mumbled 'cup of tea and the bluebell woods?' Struggling with her tears Elizabeth nodded, 'Perfect.'
Buoyed up by her sister's presence and the hot cup of tea she changed into boots and a jacket for their walk. Kathy let her two dogs off the lead the moment they entered the wood.
Elizabeth stopped in her tracks as they approached the sea of purple bluebells, breathing in the scent and watching the shafts of sunlight thread their way through the crisp clean green of the beech leaves. She turned to Kathy,
'It's life-affirming, it's magical, it never fails to bring me joy and now will help with healing. It's that feeling of joy that's a type of fulfillment that transcends fleeting moments of happiness.'
Her sister giggled, 'oh Lizzie you and your flowery words, I just love it.'
They linked arms and trod gently through the wood keeping to the path. Elizabeth thought to herself, not wanting to sound gushing but feeling that this joy was giving her the confidence to know that all is well regardless of external circumstances.
Here in these woods she had always felt, since she was a child ,a joy, a sensation that was the ultimate pursuit and realization of life's purpose. She felt Jacques' presence, her parents love for her, her grandparents who had trod these woods facing great challenges , the men to the trenches and Africa, the women finding solace in these woods.
Kathy stopped and called the dogs to heel and put her arm around her sister, 'I'm not as good as you with words, but listen '. In the silence that followed they heard the first gentle song of the cuckoo.
Elizabeth's phone rang, making them jump and startling a squirrel that darted up a tree.
Cheerful voices rang out as she looked at her daughter Delphine and her son Jean-Paul with their partners and all her lovelygrandchildren, jostling to see her on the screen, cries of 'mami, maman, chèrie, tu me manques.' they were blowing kisses and the baby was chuckling at the bundle of cousins.
She laughed and waved at them and reassured them she would be home soon and then swung the camera round the wood to show them the beauty..More cries of wonder and 'ooh la la, la mer.'
As they walked back to Kathy's house they reminisced and turning to each other their eyes glistening they spoke in unison, their mother's words, 'roots to grow, wings to fly and a reason to come home.'
