turn, shouting sometimes over our child’s tears. He’d tell me afterwards that it was my fault. I was raising a ‘sissy’, and he’d tell Ben that ‘big boys don’t cry’, then we’d argue over which of us was right and which of us was wrong and Jude would insist it was my fault because all I ever did was cry and cry.
‘No wonder your mother abandoned you,’ he said to me once as I cried into my pillow one night after a particularly tough evening of name calling and abuse, all because he’d had a bad day at work and needed a punchbag to make him feel better. His words cut me right to the bone and I vowed it was the final straw, but the next morning there was an apology, a cooked breakfast in bed, and a trip to the swimming pool planned for our very excited son. And so I stayed. And so it continued …
I feel a lump wedge in my throat now, a huge boulder of anxiety at the memory of how his words used to hurt me so deeply. He’d tangle me up in an argument I could never win, and if someone had asked me about it afterwards, I’d never be able to convey how he played me like a fiddle, making me dizzy with my own words and tangled up in his.
And now, here I am watching on as this gentle stranger who only came into our lives a few days ago, has already taught my son the complete opposite. Ben leans into Aidan and does what he was so frightened to do for so long now. He cries for Mabel and in turn I cry for him, and soon Aidan is filling up too. He grips my hand a little tighter and I close my eyes, wishing I could lean on him for just a bit longer.
Here we are, just the three of us, Mabel’s family as she called us, crying floods of tears in her little sitting room, each of us so distraught at her loss but each of us also knowing that she has brought us all together with a bond that is so strong, no one will ever be able to break it. Not even a mysterious wife in America who never had the joy of knowing Aidan’s wonderful aunt or his family home the way I did. She will never know the fun and laughter that knowing Mabel was, or the way she could light up a room without saying a word, or how she could sort out a problem just by standing beside you. This is a part of Aidan’s life that only Ben and I will ever understand here in Ballybray, and knowing that makes it just a little bit easier to let Aidan go back to his other life where he belongs.
He will never be ours, but this moment will always be ours together and for that I’m very, very thankful.
‘Roisin,’ he calls, just as Ben and I have said our goodbyes and wished him well for his return to the States a little while later.
‘Yes?’ I say, turning towards where he stands in Mabel’s doorway, rubbing his forehead with one hand as if he is squeezing back a mound of tension.
‘Look … this might sound a bit crazy and maybe it is. Maybe I’m not thinking straight at all, but my head is a bit mangled and I suppose it’s a mix of emotions and—’
‘What is it, Aidan?’ I ask him, worried now. I totally understand what he’s saying, but not sure what he wants from me.
‘I’ve been thinking about Mabel’s messages to us and – well, everything so far has made me feel better, so I’ve decided … I’ve decided to stay here for a while and try to get my head around some of the bigger things going on in my life,’ he tells me, and I can almost see the tension on his face fade away as his words spill out.
‘OK,’ I nod, a bit shocked at this last-minute U-turn.
‘So, I’m not going to sell the house so hastily,’ he continues, ‘and I’m not going back to America tomorrow. I’m going to stay in Ballybray, away from all the madness over there, and try to figure things out from here.’
‘Oh,’ is about all I can find to say at first, and I’m unable to disguise my surprise at his decision. I can’t deny it, I do like the idea of