Yesterday we put a Fairy Door in our back garden.
It’s not that unusual a thing to do as they have become quite popular with Irish children but we had a very different reason for it.
To be honest, the placing of the Fairy Door was more for me than for the children and this is why.
I’ve always been a very expressive person when it comes to my emotions and in particular how I express my grief. Sometimes though certain circumstances can make grieving difficult.
Three years ago I lost a friend to suicide. It was a complete shock that no one saw coming. What made this news even more difficult was distance.
While I had known her while she lived in Ireland, my friend, Jen, had returned home to America and there was no way for me to make it over for her funeral.
When this happens it can feel like there’s no closure. Like you never really got your chance to say your final goodbyes.
Recently I moved into a new house and for the first time in years, I have a back garden. After the flurry of boxes were dealt with and I had a moment to breathe I decided that I would do something in my garden for Jen.
She had always loved nature so I thought it would be the perfect tribute to her memory.
Jen was my mum’s best friend and like another aunt to me growing up. She was a writer and would always take the time to listen to the stories I was writing. These stories usually involved fairies.
When you’re a child it’s always nice to find an adult who believes in magic as much as you do and when I spotted the Fairy Door at the market over the weekend I knew that’s it, that’s what I will put in the garden for Jen.
The Fairy Door was also a lovely way to involve my children. They unfortunately never got the chance to meet her but have seen her photos in our home and ask about her. I’ve always told them that she’s a special friend that watches over us so their natural conclusion is that she’s a fairy or an angel.
It’s really wonderful to see them run up to the door and say hello to her and it lets me know that while she may be gone she will never be forgotten.
