Noel.
Tamzin’s words the other night overwhelmed me in a way I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. The gift she gave and her honestly in her declarations that followed are something I’ll treasure forever. Everything I said in return is true: I’ll do anything I can to protect her and the baby, even if it ever means putting my life at risk in the process. They come above anything else. But I can’t deny the panic that rushed through my veins when she said them. The thought of losing her isn’t an option and it’s been eating away at me like some infected disease ever since that day we went to the midwife. I can’t lose her. I can’t lose either of them. But that isn’t what’s brought me here today. At least I don’t think it has. Truth is, I don’t know what has. I just got in the car and drove. It wasn’t until I saw the iron gates that I realised where I was. I’m still getting the same dream—the bright light and the grip on my shoulder—only now that grip feels so real. I can’t work it out or make any sense of it. It’s just a dream; it means nothing. So why is it constantly at the forefront of my mind, leaving my stomach feeling heavy?
“If ever there was a time I’d want you to annoy the shit out of me, William, then now would be it,” I say with a smile as I look down at my little brother’s headstone. “Is it you that keeps making me awake? You trying to give me some kind of sign, you little bugger?”
William was the most mischievous out of all of us boys. Having four older brothers I think he had a lot to live up to. He would constantly be out kicking a heavy ball against the neighbour’s fence, waiting to get yelled at, only to blame it on James when our parents had complaints.
The sound of the early morning call from the robin in the trees ricochets around the graveyard. The frost is biting the tips of my fingers as the low sun does little to thaw the chill in the air. Placing the Christmas wreath on the crispy white grass, I step back and push my hands into my pockets. I don’t come here as often as I should. It’s not that I don’t wish to or that I have no time—you can always make time—it’s just something I can’t always bring myself to do. “What am I to do, Will? I feel like I’m going a little crazy when I have no reason to,” I sign, closing my eyes for Tamzin to appear in my thoughts. “I can’t lose her, brother. I need her.”
“Noel?” I turn on the soft sound of my mother’s voice. She’s a few feet away, wrapped up in her long grey winter dress coat and matching Russian style hat. Her rosy cheeks are prominent, along with the sparkle in her eye. She smiles and steps forward. “Do you want some time alone, son?”
“No, Mum it’s fine.”
She comes over, places down her own wreath that she no doubt made and pats her hand on the head stone with a little nod and smile before standing beside me in silence, linking her arm through mine. My mum visits every week without fail but never speaks to William when she is in the presence of another. I used to think it was because she felt uncomfortable, but I soon learned that it was the fact she could open up more without anyone listening.
“It’s unusual to see you here this time of the morning, Noel. You should be working,” she says softly, as though speaking loudly is forbidden because of where we are. “Is everything alright?”
Just hearing those words has brought that tightness of uncertainty back to my chest. I don’t know if I’m alright. I don’t know what to think. Work stress and the thought of losing Tamzin seem to be the two things that rotate in my mind.
“Did you ever worry about not being a good mother?” I blurt out unexpectedly. I can feel her stare but I look straight ahead. If I look at her I’m afraid of what she might see in my eyes.
“I still worry now after all these years. It’s something that never goes, no matter your child’s age. Unfortunately, worry comes with being a parent. This is something Tamzin will learn as time goes on.”
I don’t bother to correct her. I hadn’t been referring to Tamzin being worried. She’s very level headed when it comes to stuff like this and up until a couple weeks ago I thought I was too. Only now I feel like I’m slowly drowning and have no idea why when I wanted this to begin with. “Did you ever fail at anything?”
“When does anyone not fail at something in life? No one is perfect and having a child is a massive responsibility; it’s a life changing experience that you learn along the way.”
“What about love? Did you ever feel as a mother you couldn’t love enough? Or that you couldn’t love more than one person because of how much love you had for them?” I’m shocking myself here. I don’t know where any of these questions are coming from. The feel of her knitted glove gently takes hold of my jaw, turning me to look at her. A warm smile graces her thin lips. “We’re not talking about Tamzin are we?”
“What if I’m not good enough, mum? What if I’m not that dad she’s expecting me to be? I love her so much she takes my breath away each and every time I lay eyes on her.” I admit. “But what if my love is not enough for the both of them? I don’t want either of them resenting me for it.” I know I’m panicking and I know I sound fucking stupid but I can’t help the irrational fear that’s suddenly rushing through my body and clouding my judgment. Is this anxiety normal? Does every parent get this? Every new father?
“Do you love them both now?”
“Of course.”
“Then why are you questioning yourself Noel? A parent’s love is different: it’s pure, unconditional and will leave you complete, but it’s different. It’s easy for me to say this because I’ve been there. You have a lot to learn, but once you have that baby in your arms you will be the best father I know you can be. You’ll have so much love for your child that words will never be able to describe. The same when you look at Tamzin, but you’ll know the difference between the two. Everyone has a heart, Noel, and your heart will share that love equally between the both of them without you having to think about it.” She looks back at the headstone once more before looking at me with tears in her eyes. “Cherish it son. Cherish them both. Because even though there is so much love, life is also cruel and you never know what’s around the corner.”
That’s what I’m most afraid of.
I pull her into a hug and let her words settle, her embrace easing the ache in my chest with warmth even though our thick coats prevent physical contact.
“Are you doing anything today?” I question as she steps out from my hold.
“Baking for Christmas. I have a new recipe for mince pies I want to try, why?”
I love watching and helping her bake in preparation for Christmas. When I was a kid I used to watch her. It eventually turned into our mother and son talk time, but it appears we’ve already done that today. “Can I come back and help?”
“Of course,” she beams. “But why do I get the feeling you need something in return.”
“Whatever made you think that?” I grin, knowing a little Christmas shopping is needed which only she can help with.
“Noel, I’ve known you thirty-two years, your eyes tell me what your mouth doesn’t.”