Page 125 of Courage, Dear Heart

Everything looks the same as I remember it. The trees have grown. Their trunks are thicker, but the grass is short and freshly cut. The green scent is still pungent in the cool breeze. There’s a new swing set. And the school walls are painted the same blue I grew up with.

Jamie jumps off the swing and runs to me. I scoop him into my arms and twirl. Set him down, take his hand. “Come. I want to show you something.”

I bring him to the slide. It’s still here, braving the elements and thousands of kids over the years. The yellow and red colors are faded, and it’s covered in scuff marks, but it’s the same slide I got pushed off.

I trace my fingers over the warm contours of the slide. “This is the slide.”

Jamie’s eyes widen. He looks from me to the slide. Places his small hand next to mine. “Daddy?” Every time I hear my son’s voice feels like a miracle.

I nod, a knot forming in my throat. “Yes, baby. This is where I met Daddy. Twenty-four years ago.”

He looks up at me. “First week of school.”

“Yes.” I open the bag I brought with me and retrieve the book CJ created.

Jamie gasps, takes it from me with gentle hands, and opens it to the first page. Looks from the drawing to the slide. Back and forth he goes, comparing every detail. His eyes fill with tears. “Read for me, Mommy.”

I sit on the grass and pull him onto my lap. “Once upon a time, in a very small town in a very big state called Ohio, there lived many people. But the two most important people in this story were CJ Miller and Jillian Heart. This is the tale of their very first adventure.”

He turns the page.

The image shows the school playground. The slide, bright yellow and red. A little girl in a purple dress and ponytail climbing the ladder.

“It all began on a very special day—the most importantday of CJ’s life. It wasn’t just any day on the playground. No, it wasn’t. It was the day CJ met the girl in the purple dress, though he didn’t know her name yet. But he already knew one thing: she was going to be his friend. How did he know? Because his heart told him. And CJ always listened to his heart.”

He lingers, looking at the painting before turning the page again. The picture shows the bully walking to the slide behind the little girl. The drawing of the bully shows a big boy, shaped more like a potato than a kid. Buzz cut hair, crooked teeth, and a mean look on his face.

“There was a school bully. All schools have at least one. This bully was like many others. Because he was bigger, he thought he was better and smarter than anyone else. But what that bully didn’t know is that courage and smarts come in all shapes and sizes.”

The next two pages show the bully pulling the little girl’s hair and her falling to the ground, and CJ as a little boy, running to the slide.

“CJ’s heart told him to keep an eye on the girl in the purple dress. He worried the bully might try to be mean to her. And sure enough, when she climbed up the ladder to the slide, the bully showed up.”

He turns the page. The image shows CJ helping the little girl up and the bully at the top of the slide ladder laughing. “The girl in the purple dress was very brave. She didn’t cry, even though it must have hurt. CJ rushed over. He helped her stand up and made sure she was okay. Then he turned to the bully and said ‘That wasn’t nice. You should be kinder.’ But the bully just laughed. Bullies often do.”

The next page shows CJ standing in front of the slide andholding a soccer ball, and the bully slides into him and smashes his face into CJ’s elbow. “CJ didn’t like bullies. He also didn’t like the way the bully treated the girl in the purple dress. It didn’t matter that the bully was in third grade and CJ being in first grade was much smaller. He had to help her. And then CJ had an idea. He wasn’t sure it would work, but he thought it just might. When someone kicked a ball past the slide, CJ bent down at the bottom of the slide to pick it up. He stayed there just long enough for the bully to come speeding down the slide. And when he did—CRASH!”

Jamie is giggling now at the picture of CJ holding the soccer ball and winking.

“The bully’s face bumped right into CJ’s elbow! Oh no! What a terrible accident! (Wink, wink.)”

The image shows the bully holding his nose and crying, tears spilling in an arch.

“The bully cried and cried, and everyone on the playground turned to look. From that day on, the bully didn’t bother anyone again.”

I kiss the top of his head as we both look at the picture of CJ walking away holding the little girl’s hand—my hand.

“And as for CJ and the girl in the purple dress? They became the best of friends. Because that’s what happens when you listen to your heart.”

Jamie pages through the rest of the book—only images now. We linger a few seconds on each page. A storyline of my life with his father. Pages dedicated to us growing up together. Each page showing key moments in our lives. Us growing up, looking older, birthdays, him helping me in the garden, entering high school, graduating, moving to New York for college. Visiting all the tourist places as we got toknow the city. Me at the flower shop on my very first day working there. CJ joining me a few weeks later, working as the delivery guy. The two of us moving to the apartment upstairs. Another graduation—college this time. Getting married in a very small ceremony in Central Park under the flower canopy CJ built for just that moment. Us, surrounded by golden light as the sun set behind the trees during the most perfect spring day.

Fast forward to CJ on his knees, kissing my pregnant belly. And then Jamie in my arms in the hospital. Jamie’s first smile, first step, first word—Daisy—and the last page, the three of us in Central Park again, sitting on a blanket, watching the sunset. Most of our lives, captured in those pages.

Seeing Elliott again after so many days of no contact has awakened a part of me I shut the door on. I thought I was over him. Over loving again. Such convenient lies. I busied myself with Jamie, him talking again and healing. And with doing everything in my power not to fall apart and prevent being under my mother’s will.

Coming back to the house I grew up in was the right decision. I had unfinished business I wasn’t aware of. This place I once called home no longer is. I may have lived the first eighteen years of my life in this house, but I don’t belong here. I’m much too big for this town now. I’ve grown, opened my eyes, learned to stand on my own two feet and brave my demons alone.

I survived. For Jamie at first. And then for myself. I discovered who I am when I stood alone and no longer belonged to anyone. Not to my parents, not to CJ, and not to my son. My grief isolated me even from him.

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