Sunrise By the Sea by Jenny Colgan

Chapter Twenty-eight

Being right, reflected Anita, was in no way satisfactory. She had so hoped Marisa might prove the exception. The forty-five minutes of sobbing that was currently taking place indicated that this was not the case.

She didn’t want to be directive, but maybe – just maybe – this setback could be a breakthrough. Remind her of what she wanted back in her life; what she truly loved: being with people, out, and part of the world.

‘This is making you so sad,’ she pointed out unnecessarily, as Marisa wrung out yet another lemon-yellow cloth napkin.

‘Yes.’

‘But it’s not about your grandfather, is it?’

Anita’s tone was gentle, but deadly serious.

‘But I miss him.’

‘Yes, but he didn’t raise you . . . He lived far away. He loved you and you loved him. I realise you miss him. But I don’t think he’s the reason you’ve found things so difficult, do you?’

Soberly, Marisa shook her head.

‘This is you, Marisa. It’s you who has made yourself so scared, who has tied yourself in knots. It’s been – and I don’t mean you didn’t love your grandfather – of course you did – but I think your grief has become more than this, don’t you? You’ve let it engulf you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, lots of people find life gets on top of them at points.’

‘But everyone else seems fine.’

‘Pff,’ said Anita. ‘Yeah, whatevs. You would think you were totally fine, if you could see yourself in your beautiful house, cooking away.’

Marisa shook her head. ‘I feel sometimes like I’m the only one left grieving.’

‘And I have to show you that that is not true and that there are ways to live and grieve at the same time.’

‘What do I do?’

‘Well,’ said Anita slowly, ‘you carry on. You stay the course. You walk further away from home. You don’t think about your job or your granddad or your future or anything else. You put one foot in front of the other.’