A Spirit of Love
Julian watched the carriage light swing gently as the train made its way through the mountains. It was old and Victorian with a medley of flowers carved into the bracket that encased the warm orange bulb. Faith would have liked it. When they had lived together, she had filled their tiny apartment with weird and wonderful objects from all different eras. His favourite had been a portable medicine cabinet with old apothecary bottles in each of the little stations. They'd mounted it on the wall and had filled each of the bottles with notes on scraps of paper; 'hot chocolate and pancakes on Sunday mornings' and 'remember the time I cut my hair and you cried'. Sometimes he would read the notes on lonely nights, smoothing the yellowing paper between his fingers, and he would cry. But not for the loss of hair, but for the loss of her.
Jonah shifted beside him, his body spread wide, floppy as a rag doll. His head was in an awkward position, but he didn't seem to care. He just continued to sleep, his little chubby hand wrapped comfortingly around Julian's finger. As Julian watched his little chest move up and down, how his long eyelashes tickled his apple cheeks, he felt the familiar and overwhelming sense of love wash over him. For all that Faith had broken his heart, she had left him with the most precious gift that helped to stitch it back together. And because Jonah was so precious, he deserved a life with both parents, even if one of them could no longer be there. Julian knew that Jonah wouldn't understand why he was taking him into the heart of the mountains. His toddler mind wouldn't be able to process what he was seeing or what it meant. But hopefully, one day, he will realise that what he saw was his mother. A young beautiful woman with the biggest heart, and hands that only wanted to hold him to her chest. Maybe one day, he will also understand why that chest was so cold and still, why the arms that wrapped around him never actually touched his body, why his mother had no colour to her skin. And hopefully, he would realise that she would always be there for him, if not in body, but in spirit.
A tear ran down Julian's cheek as he watched his little boy sleeping so peacefully. So many 'if only's ran through his head, so many 'what if's. But one constant sat among his racing thoughts, the eye of a raging storm: He has us both and always will, no matter what.
Painting: Roseberry Topping by Mackenzie Thorpe
