Dear Diary,
I havent set foot in Karen Whitakers flat for ages. I didnt want to, I couldnt. The tears ran dry long ago; the grief has settled into a dull, relentless ache, a feeling of hopelessness that never quite lifts.
Sam Whitaker was twentyeight, never complained about his health. Hed finished his degree at Manchester University, had a decent job, hit the gym regularly and was seeing a girl. Two months ago he went to bed and never woke up.
Karen divorced when Sam was six, she was thirty at the time. The reason was as plain as day her husband cheated, over and over again, and stopped paying child support, disappearing completely. Sam grew up without a father; my parents helped out where they could. She had a few suitors over the years but never gathered the courage to marry again.
She worked hard and earned a living. At first she rented a tiny kiosk inside a local supermarket to sell frames and spectacles. Shes an optometrist, after all. Then she took out a loan, bought a shop of her own and turned it into a respectable Whitaker Optics, complete with her own consulting rooms. She spent her days fitting glasses and giving advice.
Last year we bought Sam a onebedroom flat in Salford, right on the same estate as ours. A modest refurbishment was carried out it could have been a home, truly a home.
Dust everywhere, dust in the air. Karen grabbed a cloth, pushed the sofa aside and, from beneath it, a mobile phone fell out. She couldnt locate it, so she slipped it onto the charger.
Back at home, eyes brimming, Karen stared at the pictures on his phone Sam at work, Sam on holiday with friends, Sam with his girlfriend. She opened Viber and, at the top of the thread, a message from Dennis, a university mate. It was a photo of a young woman with a little boy who could have been Sams twin.
Remember the New Years party at Lenas when we were still undergrads? Lena had a friend. I met her and her son he looks just like yours! Sent a snap for the memory, the message read, dated a week before the tragedy. So Sam knew about this child and kept it to himself. What a twist!
Karen knew where Dennis lived. The next day, after work, she drove to his address. The boy ran after a lad on a bike, begging for a turn. Karen knelt down and asked, You dont have a bike?
He shook his head. The mother, looking barely twentyone, with a flash of gaudy makeup, stepped forward.
Who are you? she asked.
Im his grandmother, Karen replied.
Im Olivia, his mother. Nice to meet you, she said.
They all went to a nearby café. Danny as they called the boy ordered an ice cream, Olivia a coffee. Olivia told her story: six years ago she arrived from a Yorkshire village at seventeen, enrolled in a tailoring college. Over the Christmas break Lena invited her over; Lenas parents were away. Lena was friends with Dennis, who turned up to celebrate with Sam. Olivia and Sam had a fling. Sam left his number, promised to call, but never did.
When Olivia discovered she was pregnant, she rang him. Sam was furious, shouted at her, handed over cash for an abortion and told her to vanish from his life. She never saw him again. She quit college, was ejected from the hall with a baby, couldnt return to the village her mother was gone, her father and brother were drinkoffs.
Now she rents a room from an elderly widow, looks after the child while she works in a small dumpling factory, earning barely enough to hand over almost all of her wages. Theres no waiting list for a proper nursery. Life is hard, but she makes do.
The following day Karen moved Olivia and Danny into Sams flat. Thats when her world turned upside down.
Danny got a place in a respectable private nursery. Karen found herself buying clothes for Olivia and the little lad, spending hours with him. He mirrors Sam in every way the look, the gestures, even the stubborn streak.
Karen took it upon herself to mentor Olivia. She taught her how to use makeup properly, how to dress, how to keep a tidy home, how to cook a decent meal. In short, she showed her the ropes of adult life.
One evening they were all watching television. Danny clutched his grandmother, pressed his cheek to hers and said, Youre my favourite! In that instant Karen realised the void that had haunted her for years was finally filling up. The grief no longer sat on her shoulders like a sack of bricks. She felt she was back in a normal life, one that could hold joy. All because of that little man, her grandson.
Two years later, Karen and Olivia walked Danny off to his firstgrade class. Olivia now works for Karen, becoming her righthand woman, indispensable. Olivia has a boyfriend whos looking for something serious, and Karen has no objections life goes on, after all.
It seems I may soon be a married man myself; an old, good friend keeps urging me toward the altar. Why not? Im in decent shape, independent, with a steady temperament, and Im only fiftyfour.
Lesson learned: grief can be a heavy cloak, but it never lasts forever. When you open your heart to new responsibilities and to those who need you, the emptiness begins to dissolve, and life, stubborn as ever, finds a way to bring back its colour.
