Peace
It’s Sunday morning, the Sunday after the Big Decision, as Guinevere thinks of it. She is still curled up in bed, but can’t go back to sleep. She turns, and tries the other side. She turns back, but nothing seems to work. She sighs, looking across at Sebastian who sounds like he is sawing up a forest…Her head is still in a spin, so many thoughts are crowding around in her head, shrieking for attention. The idea that in just a very, very short time she will be retired makes her stomach wobble. “I’ve just got till the next handing out of Gems,” she moans quietly, “then that’s it… Just a few more days, just long enough to complete some Family Events, some mentoring, and then my bags will be packed, and off to a tiny apartment I am!”
She is staring at the ceiling now, her hand running across the yellow bedspread, following its lines. She will need to leave this behind as well. She’ll need to leave her gold bathroom. She will need to leave the Granny Annexe which she has only just started to love. The weight in her stomach increases with each thought, with each possession that she will have to do without. Sofas, paintings, rugs…too many things to name.
“I can’t do it, I just can’t!” she cries, tears running into her pillow. “Surely there is a way round all this? Can’t we buy another home for the Family Line? Can’t another solution be found? Surely I don’t have to lose everything, give up everything I love, just to allow others to be promoted? This is too hard, how am I supposed to deal with this? I feel so silly as well, as it’s just possessions, but then, it’s my everything, my whole life, all I’ve ever kown!”
She remembers her mother’s sad face when it was time to go. She remembers Christie’s grey hair, straight as ever, her tanned face and the stunning blue eyes filled with tears whilst saying goodbye to the house. That time she had just felt impatience at the woman’s tears, thinking that it’s just a house, after all. She felt they had had their time, it was now the new generation’s turn, and she couldn’t wait to get on with life! She remembers her happiness and excitement, dreaming of her career, her hoby and all the different friendships she was going to form. She felt her mum should be grateful to move on, as she had had all her opportunities, reaching 100% on most of them. Now she is standing in her mum’s shoes as it were, and she thoroughly understands the tears now!
She feels ashamed at her impatience now, and wished she had shown more understanding then. It’s probably my punishment for being such a hard-hearted creature, she sniffs. No wonder most elders look so bowed down and unhappy! Look at the people standing outside on the pavement, peering through our windows, their faces a picture of misery. This is such an awful thing to happen to anyone! I love my job, but how am I going to be all upbeat tomorrow? That job will end soon, too, and will I only come back to chat to other elders, as unhappy and miserable and bowed down as they are? I just can’t bear it!
She tries to think of her father’s reaction to his retirement, and no sad face or tears come to mind. She remembers him doing some of the mentoring events, smiling and kind as ever. How come he didn’t fall apart, she wonders. After all, it was really him that carried the Mortina Line, so he actually was born and raised in this house. Dad left it without tears though, even the family he adored! I can’t imagine what made him like that, as it wasn’t as if he took stuff lightly, he really was so full of life and intense. He seemed so relaxed about retirement, as if moving Downtown to a pokey apartment wasn’t a big deal at all…
She sighs, and swipes at her eyes absentmindedly, not that it makes any difference to the flow of tears. She can’t get her Dad’s peaceful face out of her mind. She didn’t really spend that much time with him, being more drawn to the exuberant Christie. Surely there must be something her Dad has said about dealing with disasters like retirement and birthday cake icons?!
Lying in her bed, watching the sunlight coming in, bouncing of the room dividers, forming dancing patterns on the ceiling, Guinevere runs through conversations she has had with her Dad before retirement took him. She remembers him talking about his mum, Gabriella, and his aunt Alicia. That is it! She thinks excitedly, that was it! He said something about his mum and aunt being like chalk and cheese. His mum was Miss Awkward, even I remember her as the impossible Granny, that is, until she witnessed that incident…nuff said…and Great Auntie Alicia was sweet and kind, and everything a granny should be. I remember as a child wishing she was my proper granny, baking and playing and telling stories, singing…yes, I remember how she was always singing. Tears have dried with all those memories filing by. In fact, Guinevere is amazed to find herself smiling in the semi darkness.
What made Great Auntie Alicia so different? She tries to remember some of the songs, the stories…and pulls a face. Oh. Yes, she can tell now, even though as a child is wasn’t spelled out as much, probably. It was Alicia’s faith that filled her stories, her songs and even her hugs and cooking!
She thinks of her dad, who still went to church regularly, but she can see now that his faith wasn’t as integrated as Alicia’s was. He was a lot more private about his faith, but it obviously helped him personally. She sighs. Faith! Really? There is really no other way to cope well with this pending disaster called retirement?
She looks at the alarm clock, its red numbers making a red circle on her coffee pot, next to her pillow. 6.30. Wow, that’s still night! No work today…just some events…Should I…no, no, this isn’t me. On the other hand, can I really make it through this day, looking at my beautiful house, watching Sebastian pack, seeing Chris measure walls and windows, planning, scheming…waiting for us to go? Oh, I can’t do this! It’s too dreadful, and deep down I’m starting to feel resentment growing, anger bubbling away, tears forming… It’s going to be a very, very hard day…Maybe I should…
Well, actually, why not? Aunt Alicia lived for it, breathed it, smelled of it, Dad loved it and lived it…can it really harm? What if it does somehow help me, comfort me, give me a way to roll with the coming upheaval…?
Guinevere does what she has never done before. She slips on a long dress, even finds a hat, and off she goes! Yes, she’s off to church! Who’d have thought Guinevere would ever travel down that road? She decides to go to a very old scenic chapel outside of Sims Mobile. If you do something, do it properly, she grimaces to herself. At least I can enjoy the architecture; there’ll be stuff to look at if it’s too bad…
Guinevere arrives at the chapel, walks down the long church path, apprehension almost slowing her down to a halt. When she gets in it turns out bigger than she thought. She grabs a hymnbook and finds a seat in the old wooden pews. She looks round her, “How quaint!” she whispers to herself, “This place must be so old, look at these old wooden pews…Good thing they have cushions on here, it would be very hard otherwise!”
The service starts, and to Guinevere’s shock it’s all about peace! Being at peace, having peace, asking for peace. Just what she needed to know. How did the preacher know she needed it? She looks at him suspiciously for a moment, but soon finds herself listening to his words again. The more she listens, the more she understands, and the more she remembers some of the songs and stories from Great auntie Alicia. Many of these were about peace as well, she recalls, something she didn’t take notice of as a child.
She looks at the Bible in front of her, finally finding the verse the preacher is explaining, and it suddenly makes so much sense to her! She can feel his words landing deep down in her heart, chipping away at the huge boulder of fear and resentment lodged there. Peace, a small measure of peace is creeping into her heart. She breathes in deeply, wondering if it really can be possible for her, Guinevere, to experience some of this peace herself as well. She knows it’s a by-product, the preacher makes that very clear. She also realises that her fear and resentment have also been by-products, something that she will need to address at home, in quietness, alone…
Guinevere leaves the chapel with more peace than she has ever had before, and a firm idea of what she will do when she gets home. No, her circumstances haven’t changed, she will still be old and grey in a few days, still be bowed down, still need to pack her few personal belongings, but she has changed, her heart has changed, her life has changed! Guinevere is excited, and then stops in amazement. For the first time ever she actually…no, this is ridiculous…she actually started to look forward to her retirement! Not because of all the things she will lose, but of what she will gain! She will gain time. Time to read, to pray, to think, to feel the peace inside her growing. Guinevere actually laughs out loud, who knew a person could be turned inside out like this, and so suddenly too!
She is still smiling when she gets home, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the others, and the gigantic scowl on Chris’ face. She even hugs Sebastian, making him smile, “No wonder they warn people against religion,” he laughs with his rumbling, hearty laugh. “If this is the effect after just one service, well, who knows where it could lead!”
He is pleased though, for he had missed the sparkle in Guinevere’s eyes, and to see her coming back like this, well, it’s worth anything! Then he looks round the Annexe, his mind shaping lists and forming tick boxes in order of packing. Mmm, yes, he will miss the gold bathroom, he realises, but then, less people around in the bathroom sounds like a dream come true as well. When will the Gems be handed out again?
