The Lost Letters of Aisling by Cynthia Ellingsen

Author:Cynthia Ellingsen [Ellingsen, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0CJCS5HG7
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2024-04-02T00:00:00+00:00

For the first few letters, my grandmother sat back and listened. I couldn’t tell if she was affected by them at all. Perhaps she regretted coming all this way to hear them. Then, as I continued to read, I realized she was listening intently, and beginning to get upset.

There were moments when she twisted the sleeve of her shirt, shook her head, and, once, put her hand to her chest as if in pain. After I’d finished the seventh letter, I set it in the stack and said, “You doing okay?”

My grandmother started, as though surprised to hear my voice in the present time. Resting her hand on her face, she said, “I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Time heals. That’s what we’re told. Forgiveness heals.” She lifted her palms. “I was so sure time would give me perspective, but the hurt is still there. The anger.”

“The love?” I dared to ask, and she closed her eyes tight.

“Yes,” she said, softly. “There is most certainly the love.”

I sat with the weight of the letters in my lap. The sea was blue in the distance, the wind painting the air with the smell of coconut from the gorse. My grandmother’s shoulders were hunched, and it hit me that one day, long after she was gone, I’d want to step back into this moment with her.

“Grandma,” I said, and she looked at me. “Thank you for bringing me here to do this with you. For letting me in.”

“You’re welcome. I haven’t done that, really. It’s been hard on your mother that I’ve never talked much about my life.” She gave a slight cough and reached for the limoncello water sitting by her chair. “I kept thinking that I would.”

I waited to see if she’d say more. When she didn’t, I said, “Would you like me to keep reading?”

She stared out at the water. “Perhaps two more. I’m tired, Rainey. I didn’t expect this to make me feel so tired.”

I took out the next one and began to read. It was a happier one, and a series of emotions passed over my grandmother’s face. Delight, wistfulness, then tears. I handed her a napkin, and she dabbed at her eyes.

Once I’d read both, she motioned for me to keep going. “I need to hear them. I want to hear them all.”

I kept reading, deep into the afternoon, after everyone had already headed off for cocktails or dinner. I reached the last letter and realized we were the only two left on the lawn.

“This is it,” I warned, holding it up.

Carefully, she wiped her nose. “Yes. I know.”

My precious darling,

You don’t start loving someone because it will last forever. You love someone because, despite the fear that one day it will end, you are unable to do anything else.

Now that you are gone, my heart is empty. You’ve been taken from me, but you will always be a part of me. My love for you will live on in every breath, and I hope you know that I will never stop thinking of you.

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