Page 91 of A Thousand Broken Pieces

Like the journal Leo and Mia gave us, I thought. It had kept me connected to Poppy. And I knew that even after this trip ended, I would continue to talk to her through the pages. I couldn’t see myself ever stopping. I didn’t know if that was healthy, but being here, hearing this about Buddhism and the Japanese culture, told me that it was okay. It was okay to stay connected to the sister I had lost. Through the journal, I had found her voice again.

“This phone booth is an extension of the home altars. It bridges that thin line between life and death in a healthy and personal way,” Leo said. He pointed at the simple white phone booth. “The phone inside is not connected to anything on this earth, but rather the afterworld. The man who built this, knew there was no direct line to his lost cousin, but liked to think that his words to him, rather than being carried down a connected line, were instead being carried on the wind. It is why it’s called ‘The Wind Telephone.’”

My hands shook as I fixed my gaze upon that phone, and that phonebooth. Shivers ran down my spine as a timely gust of wind blew around us. Cael squeezed my hand twice. I squeezed his hand twice in return—I felt him shaking too.

“Another part of the Buddhist belief system, one not too dissimilar to what we learned in Varanasi, is that because our loved ones are still connected to us, we also must let them go. Within Buddhist thought, if we cannot let go of our loved ones, cannot shed the pain of losing them, then they cannot be set free, and instead become suspended in a kind of no man’s land in the afterworld,” Leo said. “So one of the most common phrases used within this phone booth are,“Don’t worry about us”and“I’m doing my very best”.People believe that it helps reassure those we love that we are okay, even if we are not, and helps them pass onto the afterworld and the next part of their journey.”

Cael was stiff as a board beside me. It was the hardest part of everything for him, letting his brother go. Letting go of the candle representing Cillian on the Ganges truly hurt him. This, I knew, would be no different. I leaned my head against his arm just trying to offer him some comfort.

“After the tsunami,” Mia picked up where Leo had left off. “Many of the townspeople began randomly turning up at this garden, to the phone booth to say the goodbyes they were robbed of. Just like so many of us are. Fatal accidents, quick illnesses … suicides …” Mia said, kindly and carefully. “There are no goodbyes. No chance to say all that we wanted to say to our loved ones.”

In that moment I felt lucky. Because I had held Poppy’s hand and said my farewell. I had said all I needed to say to my sister. But Cael … many of my friends here, they didn’t get that goodbye. Didn’t get that closure.

“Not everyone will want to do this, and that is okay. But we have found, that especially for those who haven’t had their goodbye, speaking into the phone is beneficial to their healing. It can really help you say what you need to say to your lost loved ones, alone, and in total privacy,” Leo said. He smiled at us all. “We have brought you here today, on our very last exercise of our trip, so you can all say whatever you need to, to those you loved most.” I heard the sound of sobbing, of sniffling and gut-wrenching cries from my friends. But my gaze was locked on the phone booth. My hand gripped onto Caellike a lifeline. When I dared to look up at his face, he was ashen. His silver-blue eyes were wide and afraid.

I laid my head back upon his arm. He was cold, and his body trembled. “We will give each of you time to enter the phone booth,” Mia said. “Leo and I come here often with our groups. We have been fortunate enough to secure some private time away from the public for you to do this.” Mia moved to the side. “So please, if you want to and feel ready, enter the phone booth.”

Leo came over to Cael and said quietly enough for only us to hear, “You don’t have to do this if you aren’t there yet, son.” Cael nodded numbly. I honestly didn’t know what he would do.

A hand clutched onto my free hand. It was Dylan. When I looked down the line, I saw we were all connected. Lili, to Jade, to Travis, to Dylan, to me, to Cael. We had gotten here. Through tears and pain and agony and opening our shattered hearts to one another, we six had gotten here to this final exercise.

“We’ve gotten this far,” Dylan said to us all. We had. Together we had held one another up. We had done this side by side, wiping away one another’s tears and comforting each other when we broke. We had a bond forged in both grief and love. I knew I would be fused to these people forever.

Lili walked forward first, releasing her hand from Jade’s. I watched her, breath held, as she climbed the steps to the phone booth and walked inside. I lowered my head when she picked up the phone, knowing my friends were giving her the same grace.

The wind blew around the trees. Birds sang up ahead; the sound of slow waves hitting the shore and cars whizzing by on the busy road behind us created the ambient soundtrack. More importantly, it gave the person on the phone total privacy.

One by one my friends made their calls. Each coming out sad and drenched in tears … but seeming different somehow. Cleansed, revived—a cocktail of emotions. We retook hands to give ever-flowing support. And when Dylan returned to the line, cheeks red and eyes wet, it was my turn.

I glanced up at Cael, who tore his eyes from the phone booth to meet mine. “You can do this, Peaches,” he said, voice raw and hoarse.

I nodded, then released his hand. It was a metaphor, I thought. We couldhold one another up, support and dry one another’s tears, but when it came down to it, our journeys with grief were our own. We wereonour own. And we had to heal alone too.

Each step to the phone booth was a marathon. The heaviness of the door felt like it weighed ten tons. But when I was inside, the black phone staring back at me, everything grew quiet, and a sense of peace enveloped me where I stood.

With a shaking hand, I lifted the phone and brought it to my ear. Only silence met me.

But I knew she was there, waiting in the wind.

“Poppy …” I said, my voice sounding so loud in the silent space. “I know you can hear me,” I said. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I read your final notebook entry last night.” I hitched a breath, and my eyes filled with tears. “It was so beautiful.Youwere so beautiful. I hope you know that.” I smiled through my quiet cries. “You said goodbye to me last night, so it is only right that it is my turn to say goodbye to you today.” I clutched the phone tighter. “Only I don’t want to. Because, if this trip and your notebook have taught me anything, it’s that I believe, with my entire heart and soul, is that you are with me.” I sniffed and took a deep breath. My chest felt raw and sore.

“When you died, my entire world imploded. But now I feel you around me. I see you in the stars. I see you in my dreams. And now I’m talking to you on this phone.”

I wiped my cheeks and stilled as a butterfly landed on a flower outside of the phone booth. It was once a caterpillar, transformed into a butterfly. That butterfly, as beautiful as it was, would only have a short life. But its beauty would remain in the memories of all who saw it.

“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, Poppy. I will never not grieve for all the time that you are missing for my life, yet I will cherish the blessings you gave to me while you were here.” My cries ebbed and my breathing steadied. “Don’t worry about us,” I whispered, wanting her to be free. “Take care, my beloved sister. I adore you. I love you. And I will miss you every minute of every day,” I said and then placed the phone back onto the holder.

The butterfly took flight, and I watched it soar on the breeze toward thesky until it had vanished out of sight. I closed my eyes and smiled, even more so when I smelled the sweet scent of vanilla taking up the space around me.

Then I opened the door to outside, seeing my friends, and the love of my life, all waiting, holding hands, proud expressions upon their faces. And I just knew, could feel it deep in my heart …

… I was going to be okay.

Silent Voices and Turning Points

Cael

THE PEACE ONSAVANNAH’S FACE AS SHE EXITED THE PHONE BOOTH WAS Adouble-edged sword. One the one hand, I was so proud, so full to the brim with happiness for my girl, that she had been brave enough to bare her soul to the sister she missed so much. So proud of how she was now, walking with her back straight and her chin held high. But on the other hand, it made me so damn aware of how much work I still had to do. Things I didn’t want to face. Pain I didn’t want to endure.

---