Growing

It’s Sunday. I got dressed, fixed my hair and now I’m having a light breakfast. I turned on the radio the minute I got out of bed- we didn’t like music in the morning, but now I am on my own in this house. It’s strange to keep our daily habits without Jeff around. I won’t spend the day at home; it is sunny and warm, I will take the bus and go to the park in the Villy. Jonathan running the grief support group suggested an exhibition called “Stories of the Past” that takes place in the park close to the train station.

I am waiting at the bus stop. I used to ride my e-bike everywhere as a child, but now I enjoy the comfort of the bus. It’s easy for me to attend the different interest groups I recently joined all over the Borough and these bus rides make me very nostalgic. My mind drifts, I am recalling how these places used to be in my youth. The towns changed through the years, many places were restored, others were modernized, but on a Sunday morning, children still come out to play.

The bus arrives at the Village’s bus station, I carefully get off and go up Derby Road along with other people that arrived moments ago by train. It is somewhat crowded, many had the same idea and the Village looks alive and festive. There’s a group of loud children near me coming out of the cinema. They have haircuts like the ones I used to give my sons when they were that age. It seems they have synced their goggles and are immersed in a shared bubble. I wish they would invite me in their bubble too.

It’s been a while since I used my hologlasses. I used to enjoy revisiting our family vacation, but it feels impossible at the moment. I keep the experience files safe in my cloud but never open them.

I arrive at the park. It’s a virtual exhibition, so I take out my holos, they are bulky not like the ones the kids were wearing. I walk around, and virtual people appear telling stories from the past. Young kids from the 2020s appear in their old-fashioned clothes telling stories about how they like to spend time in Crocky and Boody. These kids will be middle-aged people now. Some of these people could be dead. The idea makes me nervous. Maybe he‘s here too. He couldn’t be.

I take off my holos and walk around the park ignoring the notification of content that beeps from time to time.

I walk to a cluster of trees; they look like a small gang sitting on their own. As I approach, my holos beep again. I put them on to join their gang. A glowing female figure appears. Her image gradually forms, and now I see her as she used to be. She’s my age; she introduces herself, before telling her story. She’s called Trisha. “Hi, Trisha” I mutter in response.

“Near my house, a lot of trees have been cut down because of the building that is going on. When I saw them, this saddened me deeply, and I cried at their sight. I was delighted to hear there would be a tree planting day in the new park in the Village. I joined with my three grandchildren. It was a fantastic day, the four of us had a great time, and we made new friends. I am joining a garden club with one of them soon. I hope these trees will grow tall and that my grandchildren will grow old and that they remember our day together when they visit this park.”

I am waiting for Trish to finish her story, take off my glasses and put them in my bag. I take another look at how tall Trisha's trees have grown. They look beautiful.

I don’t have any special memories of this park, but we always liked walking in nature, so I walk some more.