The Lost Connection

The lost connection Sylvia finished the last ritual of turning of her PC and waited patiently, or was it with a nonchalant acceptance, for her computer to acknowledge they were officially finished for the day. As she sat there waiting for the inevitable ping to declare their finish time, she watched the raindrops slide down the windows, so long ago surrendered to the grime of polluted air and her thoughts went automatically to the inevitable traffic this latest rainfall would have brought about. “Jaysus”, she said to anyone who would listen in the office, “ you’d think we’d never seen a drop of rain before the way the city comes to a standstill once it starts pissing out of the heavens”. Her rant out of the way, Sylvia started the commute home. She had five hours left to bedtime. Her first three hours involved the commute home, the collection of three year old Daniel from his childminder, the preparation and eating of their evening meal together and finally spending some time with him listening to his fantastical and optimistic views of life before she reigned in his creativity and started the bedtime routine. If all went well, she had an hour left to organise herself and Daniel for the next day. Finally the last hour left was her time. Not that she always got it, but this hour was the ultimate goal. On a rainy evening liked tonight, she knew that that half hour extra traffic would come out of her time and slowly but ever more increasingly, she knew that her soul would take another battering and she could feel herself surrendering to the drowning feeling. This wasn’t Sylvia’s life she wanted to scream, she was supposed to be in a convertible in Monte Carlo driving through the streets as her hair blew seductively behind her. Ok, at the very least if she wasn’t living the life of a wealthy kept woman, she should have been exploring, with a devillishly attractive and rugged adventurer as they trudged the exotic peaks of Kilimanjaro. She had even reconciled herself to living the life of a muse of an extremely gifted but hitherto unacknowledged and impoverished poet/artist. She just couldn’t resign herself to the obscurity of a humdrum life in the suburbs, struggling to pay the bills each month while trying to be both Mam and Dad to Dan. As dawn inevitably follows night, she reluctantly rose from her bed. This wasn’t my decision, she fumed internally and once more raged at John for leaving them both so abruptly, forcing her to live this life and abandon the dreams they had both shared together. “You swore we’d be partners” she quietly hissed as she obeyed the relentless siren of her alarm clock and pottered into Dan’s room to kiss his sleepy head and start the established rituals of a new day. Forty minutes later, they were both in the car and on schedule, a minor success. Sylvia sat down sighed with relief and put her hands on the steering wheel, ready to reverse down the driveway. She listened as Dan chattered away in the backseat and rested her head on the wheel and slowly tears started to stream down her face. She sat like that for what felt like hours, but in reality was probably only minutes. She started to believe she would never lift her head up again. She knew she couldn’t stay like this forever, but just as surely she knew she could never move again. Eventually, the concerned “Mam are u ok” chimes of Dan’s sweet baby voice pulled her back from the whirlpool again. She wouldn’t drown today, she thought, but “God”, she thought, “You’d better pull yourself together girl, or they’ll be calling the white coats for you next”.

She turned and looked, really looked at Dan’s face. She saw the beseeching and instinctive plead in his eyes begging her to be ok, laced with his natural child like optimism that today is a new day. She quickly reached for her phone and before she could change her mind, she punched in the number of Mr. Lynam’s P.A and in a very contrite manner she explained that unfortunately she was suffering a severe migraine and wouldn’t be able to make it into the office, but she reassured the efficient but compassionate Layla, that she was certain that she would be fit for work tomorrow and she would be sure to take good care of herself and her adorable little man Dan. She then phoned Margie and let her know that Dan would be spending the day at home and wouldn’t be going to her house but reassured Margie that everything was ok and thanked her for her concern. Finally, she turned and smiled at Dan who was staring at her quizzically. “Mammy is being a naughty girl today”, she said “Mammy and her little man are going to spend the day together having fun, what do you say to that Danny”. Dan shrieked with delight and then with the earnest intensity that only a three year old possesses, he declared solemnly “wedder dad, we need fun.” “Ok, sweetheart, we’ll do whatever you want today and we’ll have fun”. Dan instantly perked up and immediately started giving directions as Sylvia started to drive. Today is about breaking rules, she thought, why not humour Dan and let him lead them down the road, wherever that road led. For once, they had nothing to do and all day to do it. Did it really matter where they were, once they were together and happy. Dan sat upright in his seat and stared out at the passing streets. He couldn’t believe his luck that his Mam was really going to do what he said. He relished his new role as navigator and continued to happily call out his directions. Eventually Sylvia realised they were on Howth Road heading for the pretty seaside town. She smiled to herself, and quietly congratulated Dan for bringing her to her favourite Dublin town, that never failed to heal her spirits. As they drove into Howth, Dan continued to call out specific instructions and now half out of intrigue and half out of good natured tolerance, she continued to follow Dan’s instructions as he led them through Howth and up the steep hill leading to the cliff walk. Once they parked the car, Dan anxiously clambered out of his car seat and then excitedly held Sylvia’s hand as he led her through an obscure goat path through the gorse on the cliff. Memories came crashing around her as she realised it had been almost two years since she had last visited here. She allowed herself the luxury of revelling in past memories and feeling the warmth they conjured. She had blocked all her memories for so long believing that bleak numbness was the only way to get through each day. She had forgotten that a long time ago she had felt happy, and even in her numbing despair, she knew that this must mean something. A fleeting thought flitted into her conciousness, that if she had been happy once, she could be happy again. It was so fleeting, so intangible it was gone before she could grasp it and hold it. She suddenly looked around and realised Dan had now sat down on a rock and patted the rock for her to sit beside him. She sat down beside him and finally took stock of where he had led her to. This was her special place, the place that over the years had always lifted her spirit. She had never shared this place with anyone, well anyone except John. She blushed as she recalled the first time they shared the afternoon here. “Wow,” she thought “ I really forgot how much fun we had and God how he made me feel”. She smiled a genuine smile at Dan and thanked him for bringing her to such a lovely place. “Dan, how did you find such a lovely place?” she asked him patting his head lovingly. Dan smiled up at her and simply said “wedder”

The pair of them basked in the winter sunshine and Sylvia sat happily listening to Dan as he chatted nonsensically and pottered around her special place. Eventually, they started to make their way back to the car and started the drive home. As they drove out of Howth, Dan suddenly sat up again and declared they had one more place to visit. Sylvia looked briefly at her watch and then stopped herself. One small detour couldn’t hurt and if it made Dan happy well, why not? She followed Dan as he chirped out his directions, until eventually she realised with a start, he had led them to Fingal Cemetry. A chill ran through her, but she dismissed it quickly, and instead as she got out of the car she pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. She hadn’t been here in the last 18 months and promised herself she wouldn’t be coming back again in a hurry. There was no doubting Dan’s increasing urgency as he tugged her hand and dragged her in and out the various aisles until she was completely disorientated by the similar rows and rows of graves. Dan stopped suddenly and pointed. She looked up through a veil of tears and she knew even before she saw it what the headstone would say. John Redmond, her John had been buried here just eighteen months before after a freak accident had ended their marriage and destroyed their dreams. She knelt at the graveside for the first time since they buried John or Reddser, as he was known to his friends, and finally began to forgive him for leaving her and instead she began to feel the love they shared. She reached out to their son Dan and hugged him and for the first time in a long time the hug meant something other than something a good Mother should do. “Wedder not dad now, wedder happy now,” Dan whispered as he waved goodbye to Reddser. As the sun peaked through the clouds again, Sylvia and Dan walked hand in hand slowly back to the car, out of the graveyard.

1710 Words