The key

And so on the first of July, the new chapter begins.  

Who knows what this one will hold? It’s all part of the intrigue. I remember thinking the same, this time last year, as I took myself hide away behind lock and key and to work through and draw a close to my chapter of grief.


As we return from London, and return back to our new home, it feels the key has been well and truly turned on the chapter of heartache, devastation and infidelity. Everything is gone. As I sit in my new kitchen, at my old kitchen table, looking out over the garden, watching the stripes appearing on the lawns behind the tractor mower and listening to the boys’ shrieks of laughter as they lose tennis balls, even the painful memories are fading away in favour of visions of future happiness here.


By sharing my story publicly, I have been saddened to hear the privately shared sorrow of others, where marriages, relationships, families have broken apart. Some stories similar, others less dramatic, but just as devastating and some even more heartbreaking.


And I wonder what made it possible for me to overcome what has happened. What has made it possible for us to move forward?


There have been so many factors, so many ingredients. 


Time, wine, tears. 


Compassion, vulnerability, courage.


Holding on, letting go and hard work on mind, body, soul, ourselves, each other.


Perseverance, gratitude, patience.


Acceptance, honesty, acknowledgement.


Friends giving us the distance we asked for and more importantly, the friends who didn’t.


Family. Unwavering. Forgiveness from and for all.
The persuit of happiness, in finding simple, small things and just choosing to be just that – happy.


But the one thing. The key that has locked away the past and unlocked the future, the key to it all has been love. 


My love for him, overpowering and healing any pain, soothing any scars.


His love for me, his heart too, cracked wide open, bringing forth his warmth and generosity, his appreciation, tenderness, selflessness, gratitude to levels that they overflow.


And just like the old key to this house, and the roses that creep all around it, holding it together, this house, this family, is love.



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