Ok well I better sign off now so I can send this. I hope you’re ok granddad. I want to hear your voice so STAY HOME NEXT SUNDAY. Please.
Love you so much, stay safe.
Ivy xx
(handwritten on paper – October 2003)
Dear Mum and June bug.
I miss you guys so much. Where are you now? Have you heard me asking every night before bed for some kind of sign? Something that lets me know that you’re still here in some form or another? That you’re watching over me?
I can’t believe it’s been a year since you guys died. Since I’ve been able to see you. It’s still so hard to wrap my head around, that I will NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN. That’s what hurts the hardest. I just wish I could have one more minute, a second even, with you both.
I have these moments you see, where I forget for just a second and I see something cool and I think, “Oh I must tell mum about that.”
And then I remember.
And it hurts so bad all over again.
How could you guys leave me alone like this? Why didn’t you take me with you? I’m still angry that you left me out, and I know that is the stupidest thing to feel but I do. You guys left and you left without me. And I don’t understand why.
I feel guilty that I survived. Especially for you June bug. You should be here. You should have got to marry Craig and it sucks that you didn’t. You would have been the greatest mum in the world (after you, mum, of course). When I think about all the little nephews and nieces that I should have had it makes me cry And want to throw myself off a bridge or something.
Don’t worry, I won’t.
I’m too cowardly.
I love you both so much, always and forever. A wise woman in India gave me the idea of putting my thoughts to you down on paper, releasing them from my head. She said I should then burn the paper, and the words will find you in the spiritual world. I hope she’s right. I need desperately to talk to you.
Please give me some kind of sign? Doesn’t have to be huge, I’m not asking for neon lights on billboards. Just a little something so I’ll know you’re still here with me and I’m not all alone.
Love you both so much, always and forever,
Ivy xx
(Letter burnt after writing)
(Recorded message left on Leo’s phone – Boxing Day 2004)
BEEP
“Hi granddad, it’s me. I don’t know if you’ve heard anything at home yet, but there’s been a tidal wave or tsunami or whatever they call it here in Thailand. Hit this morning. I can’t talk for long because this is someone else’s phone and they’re just letting me borrow it for a minute but I just wanted you to know that I’m ok. We’re up in the hills now in case more waves come. The place is totally destroyed. I think a lot of people have died granddad. It’s horrible. Ask your friends in the church to pray for the beautiful people in this country. Ok I have to go, but I will try and call you again soon. I love you, heaps and heaps. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
END OF RECORDING
(Handwritten on scrap of paper – December 27th 2004 – then released into the receding waters)
Dear Mum and June bug,
It was you I know. You saved me. When the first wave hit I would have been there on the beach, but something made me hesitate as I was leaving my room. A smell, flowers, strong and sweet and rich and reminding me of you - mum, the way you always smelt when you came home from work. I swear, it enveloped me just as I was locking the door, wafting around me, almost visible. I thought for a moment you were really there. And the shock when I realised you weren’t was like a physical punch to the gut. It stopped me in my tracks. Sent me back into my room in tears, for just long enough to be out of harm’s way when the water came.
Thank you - It was the sign I’ve been asking for.
I feel a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
In the midst of all this horror I catch myself wearing an inappropriate smile.
You’re still with me.
Of that I’m now sure.
(Handwritten letter – posted, January 2005)
Dear Craig,
I spoke to granddad last night and he told me you came to his for dinner last weekend, with a girl you’ve recently started seeing.
He said you were very nervous, worried about what our reaction might be.
I just want you to know that on reflection, I’m ok with it. I’m more than ok with it. It’s been over two years, although I don’t think there’s a right or wrong length of time for the grieving process. Look at me, I ran away and I’m still running.
You deserve to be HAPPY. June would want you to be happy. I know she would.
Grab any chance of happiness with both hands and don’t let go.
Ivy x
(Handwritten letter – February 2005)
My beautiful mother and sister,
It’s my last night here in Thailand. I’m sad to leave, this place is inside my soul now, after everything that’s happened. Always will be. I hate to leave the people when there is still so much destruction but I’ve helped where I can. It’s time to move on.
Carla and I spent the last month helping with the clean up and the rebuild. You know what’s crazy? There were times we would be helping to clean up an area and we would come across a body. Drowned or killed by trauma from the wave’s destruction. The bodies are naked most of the time, bloated and in various stages of decomposition.
You’d think it would have been the worst thing I’ve ever seen. For other volunteers with us, it was. Certainly for Carla it was. I lost count how many times she threw up, cried and declared quite understandably that she couldn’t handle another minute of it.
But not me. Don’t get me wrong. We’ve seen some pretty horrific sights, but still the worst thing I’ve ever seen was you, mum, you in the morgue that night when I found you. That’s a sight that will never leave my mind. It is still there every night when I close my eyes.
How bad is that? That in the midst of the most horrendous natural disaster all I can think about is that it’s nothing compared to losing you. I haven’t said it out loud to anyone of course. Don’t think anyone would understand what I mean.
And how fucked up is it that I’ve now survived TWICE when so many others have perished?? Why?? There is nothing special about me. It makes no sense.
However - surviving the tsunami has kind of bought me out of the funk I’ve been in since you guys died. I may never understand why I survived when you guys didn’t, but I have to start, if not believing there is a reason, at least accepting that there may be.
It’s either that or believe that someone up there keeps trying to get me but just has terrible aim.
Or go crazy.
(Letter burnt after writing)
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
22nd September 2005
Re: where are you now?
Hi Granddad,
Got your email last night, sorry it’s taken a couple of weeks but Internet isn’t exactly in ready supply where I’ve just been.
Remember I mentioned something called the Burning Man to you awhile ago? And you said it sounded pretty odd? Well it wasn’t at all. It was beyond awesome. I went with a few of the friends that I’ve made in San Francisco, California. (Side note – San Fran is an amazing city granddad, I’d love to show you around. Do you think there’s any chance you could pop over for a visit? I’m guessing not but hey, a girl’s got to ask.Don’t say no straight away, just promise me you’ll think about it♥)
Anyway, so Burning Man is this fantastic annual festival that takes place in the Black rock desert. It’s this melting pot of crazy, eccentric, beautiful people. Creative and artistic and just with really beautiful souls. People turn up in RV’s or motor homes or just funky old cars spray painted and covered with glitter and stuff. It’s hard to explain the atmosphere of the place, you have to experience it to believe it, but I had the most wonderful time. I feel really e
mpowered after going. It’s all about celebrating art, and music and life. Lots of meditation and sun worshipping (no, not tanning, just actual worshipping of the sun). People dress in the most bizarre things but they’re the most divine sight you’ve ever seen. It changes something in you. I can’t describe it, but it’s a good thing.
It’s been hard adjusting back to plain old life again. My job as a temp receptionist got made permanent, which is a good thing as I don’t have to worry about income, but it’s hardly exciting. Oh well, will pay the bills for as long as I decide to stay here. At least until you come visit (hint hint)
How’s everything back home? I can’t believe you got a dog! How many years did I BEG you for a dog and you always said no!! Ah well, I’m glad - she’ll be great company for you. Lovely name too, Rosie. Very pretty. Mum would have approved.
Ok well I’m writing this at work so better go. Don’t want to get caught and fired.
Love you heaps,
Ivy xx
(Handwritten on piece of paper –February 2007)
Dear Mum and Junebug,
How are the most beautiful angels going? I’m betting wherever you are you’re both pretty popular. Everyone loved you guys, not a malicious bone in your body, which of course is why your deaths made no sense and hurt so bad. But I digress. I know I promised to stop dwelling so much. It’s just hard though sometimes, and technically what are you going to do about it if I do? Usually the times I write you these letters are the times when I’m most struggling with your loss.
I’m a little drunk. Ok a lot drunk. But I have an excuse. It’s my last night in America. My friends threw me a going away party at the corner bar. I will miss them, a lot. But it’s once again time to move on. I’ve had a nagging fear for awhile that if I didn’t leave soon I would end up here for good. This quote is written on the inside of one of the toilet cubicle doors, and every time I see it I start to get itchy feet:
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain
And of course breaking up with Scott helped make the decision easier. He’s a really nice guy, and we’ve had a pretty good run. But we’ve been more friends than lovers the last few months, we just couldn’t admit it to each other. I think he may have meet someone else. A girl at work hinted that she may have seen him somewhere with someone else doing something he probably shouldn’t be doing if he was still in love with me.
It didn’t hurt. Which is when I knew it was time to let it go.
So. Fresh start. South America here I come, and then I’ll just see where the wind takes me.
Love you both, always and forever,
Ivy xx
(Letter burnt after writing)
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
6th August 2007
Re: Answer me please or I’m calling Interpol
Granddad – for the hundredth time - STOP worrying! I’m fine, I promise.
You really need to stop watching the six o’clock news. You’re seeing too many scary things and torturing yourself by imagining that I’m right in the thick of it.
Yes, South American countries have a tendency towards the wild side, that’s what makes them so exciting. I promise I’m not taking any risks and that I have been sticking to the places and methods of travel that the lonely planet book recommends. I’m not alone anyway, as I’ve been picking up travel companions as I go along. At the moment I’m on the road with a guy named Ben from Australia and another guy named Carl from Canada. And before you ask, they are just friends.
We climbed a volcano a couple of days ago. Such an unreal experience. We left in the dark hours before dawn, and when we got to the top there was fog everywhere, but then it lifted and we saw the most stunning sunrise. It was a deeply moving experience. I felt literally on top of the world. Up there, I also felt close to mum and June. I don’t know if I believe in a heaven or afterlife. But if there is a heaven, they are bound to be there.
I’ve heard tales of a unique travelling experience that may get me to Europe. Sorry to be all mysterious but I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily until I know for sure what’s happening.
So you’ve joined the local bingo club you say? Oh granddad! Still, was only ever a matter of time I suppose :-P
You better watch out, you’ll have all the old ladies vying for your attention I’m sure. You’re a prime catch ha!
Right, just another quick email so you don’t get Interpol searching for me. The guys thought that was hilarious when I shared your email with them. It’s nice to know that someone out there is looking out for me. I miss you a lot. San Fran seems like a long time ago and the two weeks we had together not long enough. But I am grateful you came over, I know it was a long way. Your photo was still hanging on the wall of the bar when I left, pretty sure it’ll stay there forever. You made quite an impression, with your kiwi attitude. My wonderful grandfather.
Will be in touch soon to let you know where I’m heading next.
Love you so much,
Ivy x
(Recorded message left on Leo’s phone – October 2007)
BEEP
“Hey granddad, it’s me. You’re never home when I call anymore. Obviously your social life has taken off now that the ladies in the village have you in their sights. I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving Panama tomorrow, hitching a ride on a cargo ship to France. Cool huh? I’m really looking forward to it, supposed to be a great way to travel. I’ll call you again when I get there. Love you heaps, look after yourself.”
END OF RECORDING
(Handwritten on piece of paper –October 2007)
Dear Mum and Junebug,
You’ll never guess where I’m sitting as I write this. Unless you really are still around and watching me as people keep saying you are, in which case I hope you choose your moments to drop in and not when I’m, you know, doing something I wouldn’t want my mother or sister to be seeing! That would just be weird. Shake that mental picture out of my head. Ok, it’s gone.
I’m sitting on the deck of a cargo ship, leaning up against an anchor that probably weighs about 5 tonnes. The night sky is phenomenal out here in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. Stars as far as the eye can see, stretched over the horizon. Nothing else to see except the steel of the ship and nothing to hear except the hum of the engine and the gentle splashing of the water far down below. It’s a welcome slow pace of life after my travels of the last few months. I really needed this breather, a chance to collect my thoughts before the next adventure starts.
I read this quote the other day on a notice board at a backpackers and it struck a chord:
“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” – Robert Louis Stevenson
When you died, I felt like I just had to move. Just start moving and never stop. The urge has dulled over the years but is still there. It saddens me every time I see something I know you would have loved but will never have the opportunity to see.
Ok ok, enough maudlin I hear you say. It’s unbecoming of such a beautiful place. And you’re right.
I love you both, always and forever,
Ivy xx
(Letter rolled and placed inside an empty wine bottle, the cork replaced and then dropped overboard)
(Scrawled on the back of a postcard with a picture of the Eiffel tower on the front)
Dear Granddad,
Oh la la! That’s right, I made it to the land of frogs legs and snails and baguettes. Yes, I’ve eaten a baguette, No, I haven’t yet had the delight of sampling the other two! (And most likely won’t) The journey by ship was AMAZING. Took me awhile to lose my sea legs though, kept swaying like a drunkard for the first day or two. Got some strange looks. Ok I’m running out of room but will email you
soon. Love you!
(Scrawled on the back of a postcard with a picture of the Mona Lisa on the front and both cards then posted through a mail slot without stamps or addresses)
Dear Mum and Junebug,
Oh you would love france! The men are cute with their sexy accents, the food is divine, and the wine even more so! I’ve rented a cute little apartment, (and when I say little I mean TINY – as granddad would say there’s barely room to swing a cat). Decided to base myself here for awhile and see if I can pick up any work then use my weekends to explore the rest of Europe. Wish you were both here. Love Ivy xx
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
31st March 2009
Re: Have you joined a cult where they don’t allow you to use computers?
Dear Granddad,
Haha, yeah right. No I’ve just been really busy and on the move – no excuse I know. Did you get the email I sent in Germany? And the postcard from Switzerland?
Right now I’m in Italy. It’s every bit as beautiful as the movies would have you believe. Rolling vineyards, fields of lavender. Tiny little villages’ clinging to cliffs beside the ocean. Very picturesque.
It’s a laid back lifestyle here. Siestas are encouraged (you don’t have to ask me twice). People place a high value on family. Food is to be savoured. Hmm!
When Stars Collide Page 10