**Monday, 12th June**
It took me years to finally make up my mind. After Grandmas funeral, something inside me shifted. I pulled out my phone, looked up the train schedule to my hometown, and booked a ticket. There was no putting it off anymoreI had to face the past and settle things once and for all.
The train raced past endless fields and woods, landscapes that once felt like home. I stared out the window, lost in thought. Maybe Grandma had been right all along. Maybe forgiveness really was the only way to let go of the weight I’d carried for so long.
My heart pounded as the train slowed at the tiny station. Stepping onto the platform, my legs felt unsteady, as if they didnt want to move forward. I walked slowly, pausing every few steps just to breathe.
And then there it wasthe small, weathered cottage where I’d grown up, where Mum had died. The place looked abandoned, windows covered in yellowed newspapers, shutters creaking in the wind. A sharp ache twisted in my chest as memories flooded backhappier times with Dad and my brothers. Those moments were the only threads still tying me to this place. A heavy padlock hung on the door, and the wood looked ready to crumble if I so much as touched it. I didnt try. Instead, I sat on the rotting porch steps, lost in thought for hours before finally standing up and walking back to the station. Did I feel lighter? Yes. Something inside me had unclenched.
Ten years ago, Id been hunched over my computer at home, my mind miles away, lost in childhood memories that now felt foreign and bitter. My fingers absently twisted an old school pen between them.
Dad had left us forever, leaving behind three children and a wife drowning in grief. I remembered it all too clearlythe stale smell of cheap whiskey, Mums endless tears, my older brothers constant whining. And me, a lost little girl of five, clinging to Grandmas knees, feeling utterly alone. Dads hands would never ruffle my hair again, never sing me to sleep, never read bedtime stories.
*Why then?* Id asked myself a thousand times. Why did life take him when we needed him most?
And now, years later, the message cameMum was gone.
“Are you even going to the funeral?” Grandmas voice had been sharp, almost angry. She stood there, arms crossed, disappointment written all over her face.
I looked up from the screen, my voice cold. “Why should I? I hated her. The drink turned her into a monster who couldnt care less about her own daughter.”
“She was still your mother!” Grandma snapped. “Even if things were bad, you owe her that much!”
“Owe her what?” I shot back, irritation flaring. “When Dad died, she couldnt even take care of us properly! You and Aunt Jane were the ones who stepped in. Mum chose the bottle over us!”
“But maybe” Grandma sighed heavily, struggling for words. “Maybe she was suffering too. Grief broke her.”
“Suffering?” I laughed bitterly. “Theres suffering, and then theres giving up. She drowned herself in self-pity and forgot she even had children.”
The memory stung. Years of neglect, indifference, helpless rage. Mum had stopped caring about our lives, ignoring every success and failure. The pain twisted inside me, tangled up with hatred.
Dad had always smoothed things over, but without him, life became unbearable. His younger sister, Aunt Jane, took us in, and we left for a new citya fresh start.
Yet thoughts of Mum haunted me, leaving me torn between shame and anger. How could I feel this way about my own mother? Wasnt a mother supposed to love her children unconditionally?
But reality always dragged me backthe times Id felt unwanted, the coldness that left wounds too deep to heal.
Finally, Grandma had laid a hand on my shoulder. “I understand, love, I do. But sometimes, saying goodbye helps. Maybe going back will let you forgive herif not for her sake, then for yours.”
“No,” Id said sharply. “I wont go. Dont ask me again.”
Now Grandmas gone too.
Coming back from my hometown, I turned everything over in my mind. The past rose up again, filling the emptiness Dads death had left behind. I wanted to leave the bitterness behind, to start fresh.
Grandma had been right. Forgiveness wasnt about themit was about setting myself free. The future wouldnt be easy, but for the first time in years, I felt ready to face it.
This trip had changed things. It taught me how heavy old resentments areand how much lighter life feels when you finally put them down. Now, I can move forward, keeping the good memories close and leaving the rest behind.
