See? Sagely wisdom from my adoptive grandma.
“And the second?”
“Love is not a chain that can hold a relationship together on its own. It isn’t an all-powerful, binding force like you read in books, or depicted in movies. Love isn’t a chain, but a rope, made from hundreds of tiny threads, all bound up and entwined over the years by the two of you, to create that strength through patience and partnership. All the little things are far more important than any grand display of romance or act of love.” Norah quirked a little smile of remembrance then. “My Bill had a wonderful saying that came from his father, when his dad was teaching him about the values of being a man. He’d say the greatest way to teach any child about love and respect was by the manner the parents treated each other. I always liked that.”
I like that as well, and it rang true for me. Shit, my parents were junkies, and my dad was a raging abusive cock-rot. It was Dean and Maria who showed me how love really works. Both had incredibly stressful jobs in the police and nursing, jobs that were criminally underpaid considering the amazing and difficult tasks they had to do every single day.
But all that stress, all that drama and horror they’d experience on a daily basis, only strengthened them. Bearing in mind as well they’re both black, and both were racially abused regularly in the stressful situations that made up their life.
Yet they never turned to hate. Instead, they used each other for strength. Maria said something to me once, when I asked how she and Dean managed to do it.
“Relationships aren’t fifty-fifty, Erin; they’re one hundred percent all the time, from both people. And in those times when one can’t bear all the weight, the other carries their share for a while. Most importantly of all is that you never ever keep score.”
I feel better after today. Norah has this aura of calm around her, and Maria is the same. To make sure we’re all keeping healthy, Maria is constantly issuing everyone personalised vitamin supplements from the pharmacy hauls we’ve had, keeping all of us topped up in Vitamin C, calcium, cod liver oil, omega 3, blah blah blah. Both are amazing caregivers, incredibly strong-willed women, and I don’t think I could ask for two better role models to aspire to. Nate might be the powerhouse, the great wall that surrounds us and keeps us safe and protected from the violence beyond the gate, but Maria and Norah have quickly become the foundations that our little community is built on.
I find myself more and more thankful every day about the people that have become my new family. It’s forced me to think about the others, and how I should really get to know the likes of Isaac, Mark, and Alicia better on a personal level. Charlie’s easy to hang with, as I can drop down to a nine-year old’s level in a blink. For most of my life, I’ve been experimenting with the theory that adolescence won’t actually end until my thirties anyway.
Nate, Mark, and Alicia all went out together today, heading for that builder’s yard to acquire an appropriate vehicle to bring back a load of bricks and other useful materials. We need lumber, tools, cement, a proper cement mixer to save Mark having to mix it all by hand, bricks, and all other kinds of stuff. I let Mark deal with that. I should make him a cape with a big H on it for Handyman and make him wear some underpants over his work trousers; the level of knowledge and ability in that dude is staggering. Genuine superpower-level stuff.
Ooh, shit, I forgot! I had a few games of Mario Kart with Charlie this afternoon, and as we were shooting the shit in our childish glee, he happened to mention it’s his birthday at the end of the month. He’s ten on the 27th, and that’s the big “double figure” landmark that kids get their swagger on for. With it being only a few days away from Halloween as well, we should damn well throw a shindig for the kid. He’s got no other kids around to join in the party, so I’m going to recruit the closest thing to a child here to party plan.
That would be me, should you be wondering.
I have an evil plan beginning to hatch that Nate will genuinely hate me for, which means now I have to do it. Tomfoolery for the win.
I’m aiming to bring that back, Freya. Tomfoolery. It’s just such a stupid word, I love it more each time I say it.
Everything’s been such a deluge of misery and grief of late, so it’s time to Lockey-fy the lodge and throw a party to put a smile on this awesome kid’s face.
For clarity, Freya, that time I was talking about Charlie, if you were wondering, though I admit I am a big kid at heart. But shit, this plan is so evil to Nate, it will make the whole thing even funnier. I mean, I can always accuse him of wanting to ruin Charlie’s first apocalypse birthday, and his tenth no less, if he doesn’t play along.
Guilt; the chosen weapon of all immature assholes.
Hmm, actually, it’s starting to get a little dim outside. Largely this is due to a thick overcast autumn sky, but still, it’s almost 5.30pm and the three of them aren’t back yet. The sun won’t go down for another couple of hours, but I can’t help being a little worried. Nate’s always so damn punctual.
OCTOBER 7th, 2010(2nd Entry)
WHERE ARE THEY?
It’s 9pm, Freya.
I’m really fucking worried now. I’ve tried Nate on the walkie every fifteen minutes for the past three hours, but there’s still no answer. The builder’s yard might be on the edge of its range. Shit, I hope
