Sylvie and I

It was summer when it happened. Looking back, I can still feel the soft warm breeze caressing my face and running through my hair giving it that tousled messy look. As the sun set on that seemingly uneventful day, I packed up my picnic, took one last look at the sun setting over the park and walked home, blissfully aware of the fact that I looked a mess and smelled of sweet sweat and fresh grass. I normally didn’t stop to check my mail very often, but I was waiting on a delivery for a new book I’d ordered, I was running out of things to read, which was alarming to me considering that’s all I really did. I opened the mailbox to see an oddly wrapped bundle sitting there. To be honest, I was a little scared to open it and almost just left it.. But curiosity won out over my fears as I quickly unwrapped the strange gift. I must admit I was a little disappointed when all I saw was a normal little black notebook. More confused than ever I opened it, hoping to get more insight on what this was all about, and my confusion heightened as I saw what looked like a plane ticket poking out from between the pages, as if someone had used it for a bookmark. Pulling it out, my heart stopped as I read my name on a ticket for a flight scheduled a week from now, to... oh no, this has to be a joke.. Who on earth could have known about France?! Not just France but Provence.. the place I had read books and I mean book (s) about ever since I was a kid. Ever since I can remember I’d dreamed of wandering around in the lavender fields of Sault or driving through the winding hills of the Valensole plateau but I was sure I’d only spoken about it to family, and the very few friends I had.. who could have known.. or cared enough about this to buy me a plane ticket all these years later.. I flipped through the pages desperately trying to find an explanation to this insane gift, but found nothing.. “I can’t go, there’s just no way, this has to be fake” but even as the words left my lips I was already drifting off into visions of me sipping coffee by the water in Saint-Tropez. I was brought back to reality by my phone ringing from the other room. Sighing, I set the ticket down and went to answer the call. An hour later I was back sitting at the table once again in a state of shock, only this time it was most definitely the bad kind. The call was from my mother, letting me know that my aunt Sylvie had died. I supposed you could say she and I were close. We hadn’t talked in a while, but I spent a lot of time at her house as a kid. People used to tell me that I reminded them of her, I never really knew how to respond to that because Sylvie was known to be..quite the character. But still, she was kind to me and the older I got the more I did start to see parts of her in me. The way she saw the world, her love of the mysterious, it made sense to me why people had made those comments. I mean.. we even started to look a bit alike as I got older. Now she’s gone and her funeral was set for the following week, the very same day as my supposed flight to France.. oh well, “there’s no way I could have gone anyways”...

The day finally came for the dreaded funeral and I remember being a little disappointed in just how normal and routine the service was. Everyone just said nice but rather bland things about her and how sweet she was, to be fair there wasn’t much to say about her life, the woman really didn’t leave her house that often. Still I couldn’t help but think that most of these people didn’t even really know or care one bit about Sylvie. Most of them spent the whole reception talking about how outraged they were that she didn’t leave them any money or even include them in her will. It made me sick just listening to it, so after saying my goodbyes to all the distant relatives I never really see except for at functions like this, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. I was promptly stopped by a rather strange looking man dressed in all black. He told me that he was directed by his client to give me a document after the funeral and then handed me a yellow envelope. More confused than ever I opened it, feeling rather awkward with the man just standing there staring at me. The first thing I pulled out was a letter that read as follows

To my sweet Ella Jane,

I know you must be feeling so confused right now, and I promise all these strange surprises have an explanation. If you’re reading this, then I must be gone..sad to think about but I always was more afraid of living than I was of dying, it sounds so depressing to say but it’s true. I’ve learned so much about myself these last few years, and I must admit it’s been a harsh wake up call. I look back at my life and see so many opportunities missed and chances not taken. I have chosen the safe route my entire life, which may satisfy some, but I now realize there was so much life and curiosity in me I never indulged. I’m writing this because I’ve watched you grow, dear child, and I’ve seen so much in you that mirrors everything in me. Your wide eyed curiosity for the world around you, and your way of taking things and seeing them for what they could be rather than what they are. And while these are such beautiful qualities, I also see in you the same tendencies to withdraw from the world, not out of disinterest but fear. I don’t want that for you, my love, I want you to have the life I could have had but shied away from. I need you to be braver than I was and go out there and live the life you have the yearning for. Anyway, I thought I might help you get started on this exciting life, therefore in this very envelope I have included a twenty thousand dollar check. I know I know it’s a lot but I’ve never been the type to do things out of convention so instead of splitting it all between relatives I barely know, who could not care less about me, I’m giving it to you, my dear girl. I know you will find a good use for it. Now you should have also received a plane ticket and a notebook in the mail, and I hope you’re packed because your flight leaves in 5 hours, Robert, the man who gave you this letter will bring you round to your flat to get your things and drive you to the airport. And as for the notebook...my father gave that to me when I was 19 and still had dreams of traveling the world. He told me to fill the pages with any joy or lessons that life gave me. Sadly, it has gone unused my whole life. So could you please live out his wishes and use it, my dear, any way that you would like. Now what are you waiting for?! You’ve got a world to see!

Sincerely Aunt Sylvie

In shock, I looked up at the man I now knew was Robert and could not even form words. Questions and uncertainties swirling around in my head, I truly could not decide what to do. Robert was still standing there staring at me “are you ready to go Miss?” I looked back at the church packed full of people Sylvia didn’t even know, no stories to tell of her life, just a hollow memory of an old woman.. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. “Yes... let’s go”

It’s been 3 years since that day, and I again sit in that park by the little studio flat I used to rent. So much has changed, and I have seen so much, but I still think this park is my favorite place. I check my phone and sigh; I need to go or else I’ll be late for my meeting. Big time book editors are not the most patient people. Still, there is one last thing I need-to do. I opened my bag and pulled out the now very worn black notebook and as a few tears well up in my eyes I rip out the last page of paper. On it I wrote:

dear reader,

This note is to serve as a reminder that you have only one life, and it should be lived to the absolute fullest, it should feel like the most beautiful fantastical experience, and if it doesn’t yet, no worries you can start today. Enclosed is a hundred dollars, please use it for something.. something that scares you, something that... makes you feel alive.

Sincerely, Ella and Sylvie

I roll up the hundred-dollar bill in the paper, slide it into an old antique bottle, place it in the pond and watch it as it floats away. Everyone in my life thought it was crazy that I did this with my precious aunt’s inheritance, but I didn’t care. It seemed like the thing she would do.Hurrying home, I can’t help but stop and check the mail, hoping once again that my package has arrived. I let out a squeal of joy as I see the carefully wrapped bundle sitting there. Hurrying to set my things down, I rip open the crinkly brown paper and the biggest smile spreads across my face as I read the front page.

“Adventures with Sylvie,”

Written by Ella Jane