Epilogue
I am hundreds of miles and thousands of people away from anyone who knows me. My fresh start. So how did I just find myself face to face with not only my past, but hers? The gallery refused to tell me the real name of the " very private local" artist.
Hope
Day 90
It was the craziest mix of joy and terror. I took one last look at their smiles before climbing the bus steps. Dropping into a seat, I thought about the choices before me. I may be leaving alone, but I carried with me the one thing Tala couldn't find. I found Hope.
Hope
Day 89
I invited the roommate to the bench. She actually showed up. We just sat there and watched the sun dance on the water. This is why I love the bench—it doesn't require a lot of words. I don’t know her story, but I know she has one that will be worth telling. We all do.
Hope
Day 88
On my way to the studio today, I passed a girl throwing up in the trash can down the hall. I stopped and held her hair and offered her a paper towel. I told her to hang in there, it gets better. Turns out she was my new roommate.
Hope
Day 87
I don’t even recognize the woman in the mirror. Every session with Jessie has revealed something I didn’t know about myself. Good things. Things that have been buried and ignored. Things that remind me I was a person before everyone began using me for their own plans.
Hope
Day 86
I realized in a few days I will have to leave the safety of these walls. But instead of giving in to the fear, I talked to Faith and Jessie. They are helping me make a plan. Oddly enough, getting fired set me free. Now I can go anywhere. And do anything. Be anyone.
Hope
Day 85
Today a bird landed beside me on the bench. I put down Tala’s Bible slowly, wondering why it wasn’t scared. But it just stared back. Then it flew high into the sky and disappeared in the light. It was as if it had carried away the burdens of my past with it.
Hope
Day 84
They clapped. Clapped. And stood. After I told them everything. The horrible things my boss made me do, the secrets, my desire to drink it away. The wreck. The pills. The lying. Feeling trapped and alone. And they clapped. And hugged me. Didn’t see that coming.
Hope
Day 83
I am probably doing this wrong, but if there is someone up there, I would like a little help down here. I need some courage. And maybe some of that grace stuff everyone keeps talking about. I am going to tell them everything today. I don't want to carry this anymore.
Hope
Day 82
I have been reading more of Tala’s Bible. The more I read, the less I understand. But I do understand her notes in the margins. She wrote of forgiveness and hope for the future. If she believed in forgiveness, why didn’t she forgive herself?
Hope
Day 81
I can’t hide in group the way I used to. They ask too many questions. Maybe I could tell them and they wouldn’t judge. Would they believe me? No one ever had before. Was there anywhere safe? For the first time in years, I wanted someone to know what really happened.
Hope
Day 80
Despite his reluctance, Trevor helped me hang the portrait of the little girl in the white dress on the wall next to the drawing table. Here Lilly was alive, living forever on the canvas of her mother. It makes me wonder if all that heaven stuff is true.
Hope
Day 79
There wasn't judgement. The feeling of family was still there, in that group, right where I left it. No one passed a disapproving glance, not even at the really bad parts. The only question anyone even asked was about my name. They were sure my name was Katherine.
Hope
Day 78
A breeze flowed through my hair as the sun rose over the hills. I traced the dancing light across the water and for just a second, I thought I saw her. I leaned back on the bench and let the rest of my pain fade into the disappearing shadows. What do I do now?
Katherine
Day 77
I'm not sure what has happened. One minute I am banging on Faith's office door, holding Tala's Bible and insisting she explain how this God of Tala's could just let her die, and the next I am sitting on the floor in tears with Jessie and Faith praying over me.
Katherine
Day 76
I've had enough. Nothing here makes sense. For three days I've tried to find answers to this pain in her journals, her art, and even her Bible. All I found was someone who was doing all the "right" things and still she chose this. I want, no demand, to know why.
Katherine
Day 75
The last book in the box was not a journal. Page after page, she marked verse after verse. My anger grew, especially when I saw the one circled in red. Beside it she wrote "For Hope". Jessie chose the wrong time to open the door. The lamp barely missed her head.
Katherine
Day 74
I'm back on the bench. I will never be able to tell Tala how wrong she was about all those things she said about herself. But somehow in every entry she said something nice about me. Hope this and Hope that. I never did understand why she called me that.
Katherine
Day 73
I haven't stopped reading for hours. This had not been her first stay, just her last. And she had never missed a day of journaling. She held nothing back. It was like seeing the world through her eyes. How I wish she could have seen herself the way I saw her.
Katherine
Day 72
I thought they were kidding when they said she left it all to me. But there it was. My friend’s life diminished to a copy paper box. How is it that the closest thing she had to family was a stranger she met in rehab? Then I realized that also described me.
Katherine