Forgiveness

Rachel stood alone, looking down onto the freshly lowered coffin. There were no tears, but feelings of anger, shame, sadness and guilt consumed her.  She imagined the lid opening and Holly sitting up, laughing infectiously, proclaiming this to be a bad joke. That would be so typical of Holly’s personality. Always happy, wanting to make other people smile. She smiled sadly at the thought. A light rain started to fall, mocking Rachel as her eyes remained stubbornly dry.

Rachel stood for a minute longer, not wanting to say good-bye, then turned and walked slowly towards her car.

Too ashamed to face their friends, she decided not to go to the pub for drinks. Instead, she went to the local liquor store purchasing 3 bottles of Holly’s favourite red wine.

She made her way back to her apartment as the light rain turned into a heavy downpour.

She opened the front door. Marmite came running at the sound of her entry. He purred his welcome, brushing against Rachel’s legs. She bent down and scratched him behind his ears “Dinner time little man”, she said, getting his biscuits out and filling his bowl.

Rachel went to the cupboard and fetched a wine glass. Taking her wine, she moved into the lounge. Kicking off her rain soaked boots, she opened the wine and filled her glass.

Holding the glass up, she said “Saluti Holly, may you rest in peace”, and downed the glass of wine.

She poured another glass and sat down heavily on the couch. She put her head back thinking about the last time that she had seen Holly.

Two years ago, on a night much like this, cold and raining, Holly was supposed to be working late before going to the gym. 

There was a knock on the door. Rachel staggered over to open it.

“Hi Rach”, James said. James was Holly’s boyfriend of 6 months. “Is Holly in, we are supposed to having dinner out?”

“Hiya James, nope she is still out and about”, came the reply, “you know Holly - never thinking of anyone else”, Rachel slurred bitterly.

Rachel leaned against the door frame for support. “Come in and have a drink with me while you wait. Cant’ have you going out in this rain”.

James smiled politely and went inside hanging up his drenched raincoat on the coat stand.

The apartment the two girls had shared for nearly 3 years, was tastefully decorated. They had been long time school friends and decided to share an apartment in the city to spilt costs. They shared the same love of books, food and wine and the arrangement worked well for the both of them.

An hour and a half after James’s arrival, Rachel was truly on her ear with James catching up quickly.

They decided to put on some 80’s classics and have a sing along.

Rachel ,reddened now with shame, at the thought of them dancing wildly around the apartment.

Barely able to stand up straight, Rachel pirouetted and fell into James’s arms. Through blurry eyes she leaned up and kissed him. He pulled back in surprise. Then his mouth broadened into a big smile. He bent down and kissed her back, this time with urgency and hunger. They both started stripping off their clothes. Kissing and laughing while falling over trousers around ankles, they somehow managed to rid themselves of clothes. The music thundered out, “ I don’t need another hero” by Tina Turner. Thinking back now, Rachel scolded herself for the thousandth time for being so stupid. She didn’t even like James, he wasn’t her type and he smelt a bit odd.

Through alcohol induced passion, Rachel straddled James and began to move as seductively as she could. James was roughly fumbling with her breasts as the front door opened and Holly walked in. She froze, cake, gifts and flowers in her hand. It was Rachel’s birthday after all.   

Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

 The look of hurt and betrayal on her face haunted Rachel as she relived the moment

“This isn’t what it looks like”, James said pushing Rachel off his lap and fumbling to pull up his trousers. Rachel giggled at this remark making James chuckle.

Holly put the gifts, flowers and cake on the kitchen counter. “Happy Birthday Rach” she said quietly, walking  to her room closing the door softly behind her.

Those were the last words spoken to Rachel by Holly. The next day when Rachel got up with a hangover from hell, Holly had already left. Rachel packed her things and left. She moved in with her mother for 6 months and then finally into her own apartment.

She had not spoken to nor seen Holly or James since.

Then, on  this past Tuesday a letter arrived  from Holly’s mom. 

Dear Rachel,

I hope that life is treating you well.

I know that you and Holly had a fall out some years back, but she never mentioned what it was about, nor do I care to know.

I got your address from your mom and just wanted to let you know that Holly passed away on Friday.

We are holding a service for her on Saturday at the local Baptist church at 10 am if you would like to attend.  Her friends are going to celebrate her life afterwards at local pub next to barber, where you are welcome to join.

Love

Sarah

The letter came with no return address or phone number.

How had she died? She was so young. Rachel sat down, staring at the letter. She read it again and then again. Anger flooding her, she stood up and paced the room. Angry thoughts clouded her vision. So typically selfish of Holly, always thinking about herself. Giving no notice of her death. How am I supposed to say good-by, to say I am sorry, to ask for forgiveness?  So many things to say, to explain what happened that night. To tell Holly why she had left without a note, a good-bye or a forwarding address.  How many times had she picked up the phone to call, only to put it down again, cowardly! Now it was too late.

This was all only 4 days ago. It seemed surreal. Even though they hadn’t spoken for such a long time, Rachel felt a deep sense of loss. Holly was always out there somewhere. There would be time to make amends. But not any longer. She poured another glass of wine and drained it quickly.

After another brutal hour of self-verbal flagellation, Rachel passed out on the couch, awakening with the sun streaming through the window. She got up slowly, her head pounding from way too much wine and went through to bathroom where she stepped  into a steaming hot shower.

She got out with her skin stinging red and dressed casually for the day.

“Still no tears, what is wrong with me?” Rachel scolded herself.

Her favourite thing to do on a Sunday was breakfast at the café on the corner and then a long walk on the beach, weather permitting.

She locked up and went downstairs. On impulse she checked her letterbox and found a lovely pink envelope addressed to her. Her heart stopped. This was Holly’s handwriting. She dropped the letter as if it held some sort of power. Then, thinking how silly she was being, she picked up the envelope and put it in her bag.

She walked to the café and ordered black coffee and scrambled eggs on toast.

While waiting for her order to arrive, she dug the letter out of her bag and put it on the table. She inhaled deeply and opened it. She started reading.

Dear Rach,



By the time you read this letter I would have passed on. Gosh sounds so formal (smiley face).

Firstly, let me explain my death. Soon after you left, I found a lump on my breast. Yes, you guessed, breast cancer. I’m not going to bore you with the details of the journey from then until now, but it was brutal and unkind to me. At the end of last year, they found that the cancer had moved to my lungs and needless to say I was given 6 months. The first three months, I lived widely and without fear and then I began to get really sick. I knew there was no recovery from this, and with the help of my mom I decided to take my own life.

Please forgive me. I should have contacted you after you left. I was going to. I wanted to tell you it was ok, I didn’t like James anyway, and  he smelt funny. You did me a favour. In the beginning I was too wrapped up in self-pity to realise it. But after many sleepless nights of tears and frustration, I realised that I was being foolish. I remembered the rough time you were going through, the drinking, the insecurities from your childhood and I understood. I forgave you but by the time I was ready to speak to you, I was in the middle of dealing with my cancer.

The second reason for my letter, is to tell you to that I have missed you. I missed our talks, our dinners and our friendship. I missed you telling me off about my crazy colour co-ordination and my thoughtlessness. How you would hold my hair back while I was throwing up after drinking too much. Now if would be from the chemo (sick joke I know). So many things but what I missed the most was the knowing that you were my “go-to” person. When I was sad, I wanted you to cheer me up, when I was happy, I wanted to share it with you, when I was scared, I wanted you to hold me and tell me everything would be ok. So, with all of this in mind, you need to know that I forgave you a long time ago. I know you so well, you are probably punishing yourself. You would have been hard on yourself and everyone around you. It’s time my friend, to stop. Be kind and forgive yourself. Start living your life again, live it for me. Do all of the things we dreamed of doing together and set yourself free.

Remember forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.

I will watch over you from above.

My love always

H

Rachel folded the letter and walked out of the café without eating or drinking.

She walked home and sat on the couch.

Finally, the tears came and with it the forgiveness and freedom she had been yearning for.