On Tuesday I took my brother to hospital on one side of town for a scan, then to the coast to the real deal healer, who is also a masseuse with the hands of a Goddess.
While he was being massaged, I was at a loss of what to do. I didn’t need a coffee, I couldn’t face the hoards of caravans lining the beach where I had hoped to read my book. Then I found my way to Heronswood on the hill of Dromana, where the air smelled of Frankincense and the spirit of my father called from the hill. My father loved Heronswood so much, as do I, and it isn’t just the view. (See above)
It’s part mediterranean and part gothic horror. I can imagine Flora and Miles from The Turn of The Screw hiding in the garden, or Mrs DeWinter looking out over the sea wondering what really happened to Rebecca.
It was an odd feeling of enjoying myself in the midst of a battle. Finding an oasis in a desert, or a chair in shopping centre sale. The air was thick with humidity, butterflies lazily circled Californian poppy trees and the sea in the distance, sparkled with promise.
There is a sense of peace in a garden that can’t be replicated. Nature knows what it’s doing, so why do we curse it when it does it job? Everything grows, reseeds then dies. Rinse, repeat. We rail against the unfairness of nature. Nature, like the weather, keeps us human, and our hubris in check.
Now my brother is back in hospital for Round Two of chemotherapy. He knows what he needs this time, and Dave and I, as his trusty sidekicks, took in all the food he wanted, a small bar fridge, his own bedding, wearing a new hoodie that I bought him, and sporting a amazing attitude.
He is one of those gorgeous people who the nurses and doctors love to treat. He is funny, open, brave and never once projects his anger at his cancer at the staff, as many are wont to do.
His doctor told me he is his sickest yet easiest patient. Yesterday he said it was a ‘miracle’ he survived with the cancer for as long as he did. He took a chance to leave hospital the day he was diagnosed to try and see my father before he died. It nearly killed him yet he did it because he loved Dad so much. This is the sort of person he is. This is why he needs to make it through this, because he is a good person, and the world needs more good people right now.
And gardens. More gardens are necessary for refuges in wars, both worldwide and personal.