Serendipity — “the fact of something interesting or pleasant happening by chance”. This beautiful painting by Kathy Bradshaw and my fictional story fit that narrative in a surreal way. As Kathy was finishing her captivating forest piece, I was writing this. Neither of us had any idea what the other was doing. In fact, while we know each other from social media, we’ve yet to even meet in person. The experience truly feels like a ‘Big Magic‘ moment. I hope you enjoy the collision of our creativity.

Sarah quietly slipped away — away from the crowded house, away from the stories, away from the condolences.  She needed to reflect on her memories in peace, needed to feel near her Gran.

She walked down the garden pathway, through the horse pasture, along the fence line until she reached ‘their’ tree. Two intertwined hearts were still on its trunk. She paused a moment, her fingers tracing the worn etchings, lovingly inscribed by Gran all those years ago, “So you’ll always remember the way, even when I’m not here.”

Oh Gran…I’ll always remember the way, and the very first time you brought me here.

I was so upset that day. My parents once again exasperated with me, “Why are you crying this time?”

Gran looked at me and softly said, “Come along.” She saw me, understood me, didn’t try to change me, “I love you just as you are!”  She took my hand, guiding me quietly and gently down what would become a familiar, comforting trail.

I cautiously followed her on the narrowing path, large, lush, green ferns brushing against us. Then the clearing opened before us, so welcoming, so magical. Sunlight filtered through trees, dancing on the moss-covered floor. Tiny blue flowers, “Bluebells,” Gran said, swayed gently in the grass beneath the trees. It felt like we’d entered a secret, enchanted forest.

And so, it had become their place, their private forest oasis — where it was safe to cry, be upset or excited, to feel all her emotions without judgement. Gran listened, nurtured and loved. She taught Sarah about birds, insects, animals, about trees, moss, ferns and wildflowers.  She encouraged imagination and creativity.

They would lean against the trees or stretch out on the soft bed of moss. Sometimes they read or Gran would tell stories while whittling tiny perfect carvings. Sarah would colour or draw. As time went on, she began painting, exploring with watercolour and pastels.

One year Gran bought her a camera, and Sarah’s love of photography began. Behind the lens she became skilled in the art of noticing, of being present and immersed in what was in before her, and with while doing so, her anxiety would dissipate.

Even though it meant moving away, she had been encouraged by Gran to go to university. Little did Sarah know at the time, that it would be for more than four years — that her work would take her around the world, photographing people, animals, buildings, monuments, and landscapes she never could have imagined as a girl. Gran cheered her from afar, and when her health allowed, she would travel to Sarah’s openings and exhibits, proudly beaming and telling anyone who would listen, “That talented young woman is my granddaughter. She sees and captures what we may miss.”

Sarah bought Gran a digital photo frame to keep up with her latest travels and projects. Weekly phone calls or video chats kept them connected, and she came home as often as she could. Then, no matter the season, Sarah and Gran would make time to visit in their special place in the forest — to catch up, reconnect or simply just sit, listen and observe. This was, and would forever be, her favourite landscape.

Various photographs from here and her expansive collection had found their way into children’s hospitals, daycares, schools, shelters and even youth detention centres. Her intent was to do what she could through her art to decrease anxiety for children while invoking a feeling of calm and safety, especially those in difficult situations.

With time and success, she’d been able to accomplish this, at no cost to the organizations, through her own non-profit organization — the “H3 Art Network”, in honour of Gran. When Sarah suggested it be, “Helen’s Healing HeArt Network”, Gran quickly declared that name was far too long. After much debate, Gran finally agreed to the H3 abbreviation.

Over the years, many prints, canvases, and even custom door wraps had made their way into countless spaces. At Gran’s suggestion, H3 also expanded to work with senior centres, assisted living associations, personal care homes, hospitals, health care facilities and hospices.

Sarah never imagined her vibrant Gran being in any of those places, especially a hospice. Yet it happened. Gran requested her favourite photo be hung in the common room — “as large as life please!” It was impossible not to smile at her determination and enthusiasm.

It was one Sarah had captured with her first camera. When spring was ebbing into summer. When the greens were vibrant and varied. When sunlight danced playfully on the carpet of moss. When the bluebells swayed in the grass. At that moment, when Gran and Sarah had entered the clearing, they’d both stopped, captivated by the beauty of it all — almost afraid to take another step or speak and break the spell of the tranquility and perfection before them.

Sarah loved that photo too, but the file was too small to print the size Gran hoped for, so she enlisted the help of a dear friend and talented painter. The canvas was ‘as large as life’ and the re-creation of the photo was beyond what Sarah could have wished. The texture, the colours, the details perfectly portrayed the photo and captured the emotion of their special forest retreat.  

When it came time to hang it, she wheeled Gran out of her room and watched her reaction as it was unveiled. Her face lit up in amazement, “Oh Sarah dear, it’s like we’re there again! I can see the bluebells. I can feel the breeze. I can smell the moss.”

A week later, her beloved Gran, her coach, her cheerleader and life instructor was gone. Sarah wasn’t sure how she could carry on, but she knew going back to their spot was what she needed to do now, and it would always be so, whenever she needed to feel her Gran’s presence.