L. A. Campbell

Legacy Park

I cannot recall a single conversation with my grandmother in which she didn’t throw in an adage or truism she had picked up in her many years on Earth. She was an old-fashioned woman full of ancient and archaic wisdom and philosophy, mostly in the form of proverbs. Her favourite saying by far was the reassurance that, in life, ‘what is meant for you will not pass you.’ I loved my grandmother dearly, but I never truly believed this. We all know there are too many unhappy-ever-afters and could-have-beens in this world for it to possibly be true. Besides, even if it was true, what did that say about me? That minimum-wage shift work was meant for me? That my fiancé being called away for weeks at a time, leaving me at home with our young daughter and her infinite energy was meant for me? That watching Lulu, on the day she turned six, sit by herself on the living room carpet as she unwrapped the few toys kind relatives and my meagre savings had bought her was meant for me? All Lucia really wanted was a bicycle, even a used one, she pleaded, but I saw no sense in such a gift when we lived on the sixth floor of a city-overspill apartment block surrounded by fast multi-lane roads.