Our Adventure

Our Adventure, by Monica Nyilas

The noise from the living room softens as I make my way up the stairs. I feel the smoothness of the banister as my hand glides on top. I gaze upon the pictures hanging on the walls and am filled with the warmth of those memories. The joy they bring as a tiny smile escapes the corner of my mouth as I make the last step up of the stairs. I come up on the top landing while listening to the hum of the people below. I close my eyes and take a deep breath allowing myself this moment of peace and quiet. It’s not too long before I am meant in front of a door. My head hangs low, my chest is heavy; I am filled with fear and sadness. My hand slowly reaches for the door knob, head still hanging low, eyes closed tight while I release a deep breath and gently open the door. I open my eyes to a normal bedroom. The bed is made, all nicely tucked, the curtains blow whisps across the floor as a gentle breeze from the open window fills the room, and the light shines softly bringing warmth. Peaceful and content as the room should be. I make my way over to the bed and sit careful not to disturb the perfectly made bed. I pause for a moment, taking in a breath of the spring air gifted by the open window. Cautiously I look over to the nightstand and see a picture in a frame. I carefully reach out and grab the picture. I hold it firmly in both hands. I look down at the picture while a single tear falls down my face and onto the frame. Quickly wiped away by my thumb, I pull the picture closer; at this moment the tears begin to fall like rain from a cloud. I hold the picture at my heart, the place where the memory will live forever. I stay in this moment alone and untouched.

I am awakened from this moment by a gentle knocking on the door. I raise my head and open my watery eyes to see my mom in the doorway. She walks over to me with open arms ready to embrace my brokenness. She grabs me close and holds me tight as I cry, my tears are like a raging waterfall with no end in sight. We stay like this together; she rocks me as she once did. She would pick me up, put me on her lap, hold me tight and rock me back and forth. This familiar comfort is all I need right now in this moment. My heart begins to calm, my tears slow as thought the storm has passed. I take in a deep breath and sigh relief into my mother’s arm. Not ready to let go of this moment I whisper to her, “I love you mommy.” She squeezes me tighter and replies, “I love you too.” I gently begin to lift myself out of my mother’s embrace as she gradually let’s go. She wipes the tears from my face as best she could without tissues. I take another deep breath and sigh in relief again. We smile at each other as we begin to reset. I timidly remove the picture away from my chest and put it back on the nightstand. My mom leans in to adjust its placement. She smiles and says, “I love this picture of us.” I smile, “me too,” looking onto the photograph together. My mom takes my hand in hers as she sits up. I can tell she’s about to say something important. “The lawyers called. They want to go over dad’s will with us on Monday. Do you think you can stay a few more days?” she asked. I looked away from her for a second, remembering that life is still going on in front of me. I can’t press pause even on days like today. I turn towards her and look her in the eye and reply “yes, mom. I’ll stay as long as you need me too”. In that instance I look closely into my mother’s eyes and see the sadness that lurks behind them. The feelings of loss, uncertainty and loneliness are set aside so that her strength and comfort can take over for my sake. Not long after my mom breaks my trance in her eyes, we realize that we’ve been gone too long from our guests. We both take a breath, shake ourselves off, and make our way back downstairs where we’re needed.

The weekend comes and goes and the dread of Monday is finally upon us. As we sit in the waiting room of the lawyer’s office, I hold my mom’s hand as she shakes her knee nervously. I tell her everything is going to be fine; she smiles at me and leans in to kiss me on the forehead. A man turns the corner into the waiting room and calls our name. Mom and I get up as he reaches out for a hand shake.

“Hello, my name is Luke O’Connor,” he says. “I am so sorry for your loss. Your husband seemed a great man.”

“Thank you, he really was” my mom answers proudly. Then, Mr. O’Connor gestures his arm out in front of us. “Right this way please,” as he leads us to his office.

We take a seat as Mr. O’Connor closes the door behind us. He comes round to his chair and begins to explain the steps needed to move forward with dad’s estate and his final affairs. Mr. O’Connor expresses to mom that my father has taken care of everything and that no financial burden was left to her. Mom and I look at each other and breath a sigh of relief. In the time mom was signing papers I drifted off into space. Suddenly, I heard my name being called. I quickly shook my head bringing me back to earth. My attention is now on Mr. O’Connor who looked away while pulling a brown envelope from his drawer and deliberately hands it to me.

“Your father left this for you” I cautiously reach for the envelope. The envelope reads, To my darling Julia. My heart begins to race, tears begin to well up in my eyes as I carefully open the package. I reach inside and pull out a black leather-bound book and a fountain pen. I look at Mr. O’Connor for answers.

“Julia, your father left you $20,000 for you to go travel.” Mr. O’Connor pauses, I take a breath. “He wanted you to see the world.”

I’m beside myself with gratitude, excitement and wonder. “Your father wrote this letter for you.” I anxiously sit up and listen to Mr. O’Connor as he reads the letter my dad wrote.

“My sweet Julia, I give you this book and pen as you embark on a journey of a lifetime. I want you to see the world and experience all it has to offer. Use this book to remind you of your adventures and keep them close when you feel lost. My only request is you start in Ireland, I’m sorry we never made it there together but I know you will do me this one final wish. With all my love to you my beautiful Julia. Love Dad.”

Overwhelmed, I sit back in the chair as tears flow down my cheeks. Mr. O’Connor hands both mom and I tissues, he then gives me the handwritten letter from my dad and a cheque. The room falls silent, I look around the office and see a map of Ireland hanging on the wall. I look to Mr. O’Connor for advice. “What do I do? Where do I start?” Knowing of my father’s request, Mr. O’Connor hands me a tour pamphlet for Ireland and says, “Start in Belfast and end in Dublin.” I sit up in the chair and take a deep breath. I smile at mom and Mr. O’Connor. I’m filled with excitement, “Well, I guess I’m going to Ireland then.”

It took some time for me to figure out my travel plans and work but I finally managed to get myself on a plane. I landed in Belfast on the 28th of July, but my tour doesn’t officially start until the 29th. Having dropped my bags off at the hostel, I wander around for a bit, have some dinner then settle in for the night. I wanted to be well rested for the journey tomorrow. Morning arrived all too quickly, before I knew it, we were at our first stop of the tour in Northern Ireland. Our group casually got off the bus and toured around. I took lots of pictures, capturing every moment. Later that night, I sat up in bed fiercely journaling the day's events, I didn’t want to leave out any details. Shortly after finishing I placed the black book into my backpack and snuggled into bed for the night. Then, all of a sudden, I am become very aware of what day tomorrow is. My heart is heavy, I am ill with grief because tomorrow would have been my dad’s birthday. Overcome with sadness I realize this would be the first birthday without him. Fighting back tears my mind falls silent. A faint whisper slips into my head. I hear my dad say, “this is no place for tears, sweetheart.” A small smile escapes as I roll over and try to sleep.

Mid-morning the next day, we arrive at our next stop Derry. As we are getting off the bus, our guide says to us that we have a walking tour in an hour and to meet back in the lobby fifteen minute before. I take that time to settle into the room and squeeze in a power nap. Just before the hour I make my way to the lobby, where another tour guide is making himself acquainted with everyone. As a group, we head down the streets of Derry, or Londonderry, depending on who you ask. Our guide tells us that Derry has a rich history engulfed in unnecessary bloodshed. We walk the path where the events of Bloody Sunday happened, he shows us the memorial for the fourteen people who died. I looked across the street and saw a mural depicting this historic tragedy. As we carry on with our tour, we stop at another mural of a young girl. The guide tells us that she was caught in the crossfire of the fight and this mural was painted in her honour. Our guide reveals to us the story behind the bench that sits across from the mural. He tells us that the father of the young girl would come and sit across from the mural and talk to her everyday until he passed away. The guide had said, “there is no greater love than a father has for his daughter.” Goosebumps consume me as I stand behind everyone. Tears swell up my eyes, I look up to the sky as the sun breaks through the clouds. I feel the warmth of the sun on my face as tears fall down. I could feel my dad watching me in this moment. He knew I would be here on his birthday. Together we shared in this moment of peace. I smiled to the heavens as the clouds closed the break of light. Before long, our tour had moved on. I quickly wiped the tears from my face, I lifted my camera to the mural, snapped a picture, then caught up with the group. That night at the hostel, I wrote down everything that happened today, word for word. That moment today changed me. I am beyond thankful for this opportunity my dad left for me. I know he is with me everyday and will always be looking out for me. I will remember this day for the rest of my life.