Page 32 of Unless It's You
If your Aunt Evelyn were in the room with you right now, would she approve of the plan you have? Evelyn directed me to judge your completion of the list by whether it was in the spirit in which she intended. Do you think your ideas are all in that spirit? If you tell me yes, then I’ll certainly take that into consideration. But I urge you to carefully re-consider each item.
Best Regards,
Richard
Man, I am the absolute worst.
I haven’t even read the letter she wrote me. The one that startedMy Dearest Stella, the one I scrolled past, disregarding a heartfelt last note from Evelyn as if it wasn’t worth my attention. Yeah, it’ll hurt to read. But I’m hurting anyway. I miss her. I want to call her, tell her about Ethan, tell her about the project with Sporting UK Foundation, hear herpishposhmy troubles away.
I gotta read that letter.
I send a text to Chloe asking her to reschedule my meeting, andwith a quick look outside confirming that Ethan’s gone, I push back out the thick glass doors.
The sun is trying to peek through gray clouds, and I make the short walk to Regent’s Park. Nestled in north London, the park is gorgeous in the spring and summer, the flowers and landscaping breathtaking around the walking trails, pond, and large open spaces. Brisk and fresh in the fall, cold but still beautiful in the winter, it’s my favorite spot in London. Even without the sun.
It’d be better to read her letter there, in the rose gardens or sitting on a bench by the pond, than in some dark, sad conference room. Evelyn also loved London, and she’s the one who first brought me here after Dad died. I know she was bummed that by the time I moved, she was in her mid-eighties and not up for traveling across the Atlantic to visit.
The towering, majestic white buildings of my MBA program stand to my left, and I dodge across the road onto the paved pathway into the park. Scattered people stroll the shaded trails, a pair of young adults lounges on a blanket in the grass, and a man and a young girl laugh and kick a soccer ball to each other.
I cross the pedestrian bridge and wander past a sea of colorful flowers, dodging the goose poop that covers the sidewalk and almost ruins the tranquility of the park, until I get to my favorite area: Queen Mary’s Rose Gardens. I pass through the giant black gate adorned with golden decorations. The tall and short meticulously manicured shrubs make it feel like a maze, and each bed of thriving roses surely has secrets to reveal.
This is where I came after I found out Evelyn had passed. This is where I wanted to feel her, connect to her, before she was too far away. It was beautiful, but she just wasn’t here.
I find an empty bench by the enormous fountain and sink down.
Why haven’t I read this letter from Evelyn? I think it’s partially because I miss her so badly, but I’m also mad at her. Mad that she felt the need to press her own life regrets onto her great-nieces afterher death. Wouldn’t it have been better if she were alive to see me do these things, and if I didn’t have this timeframe that feels impossible to manage?
But it’s time to face her words.
I breathe in until the warm summer air fills me deep into my core, and then tap my phone to pull up the full bucket list document. Her letter to me is on the second page.
My Dearest Stella,
Hello, my darling. I hope you are doing well, and my passing doesn’t cause you too much pain. I wish I could have stuck around forever. You, sweet Stella, are the great-niece most like me. Most like your father, too. And as such, I think you’ll be the one who resists this bucket list project the most. You like your independence, just like I do. I get it. You don’t like being told what to do.
But... hear me out. I want to make sure you don’t have blinders on to the joy and glory in the world around you. There are things I didn’t get right in life. Not because I tried and failed, but because I was too scared. I didn’t let people in at the right moments and I lived to regret that later.
Just give me four weeks. Do these five bucket list items, please? I know it won’t be easy. I get it. Do it for yourself. Or do it for me. As a last resort, do it for Reese and Maddie, because as Richard explained, I’m quite serious about tossing my entire estate to charities, and I picked the ones I know you’d detest the most.
Remember:
Your life is your own.
Your decisions are your own.
And I love you so very much.
You’ve been everything to me. My shining light. My mini-me, in a lot of ways, and I wish I could be there to see how your life turns out.
Good luck with your bucket list.
All My Love,
Aunt Evelyn
My face crumbles and I can’t stop tears from falling onto my cheeks. I wipe them away with the palms of my hands, and then rub the inside of my right wrist with my left thumb, tracing the lines of the butterfly tattoo shaded with different blues and purples. I got it when I first moved to London seven years ago. To me, it represented freedom and independence. I knew back then, still recovering from my relationship with Hunter, that I didn’t want anything in my life that would hold me down or influence how I live.
But these days, I just feel lonely. Maybe it’s Evelyn’s passing. Maybe it’s breaking up with Ben. Maybe it’s working so much that I don’t have time to foster new relationships in my life.
