Easter Bunny

You know, often I sit down to write a Note and I realize that my existence is really pretty humdrum. There’s no car chases, or Russian spies, or massive melodramas. And though that might be a bit tedious for entertainment purposes, shamelessly though, my favorite weeks, really are the ones where nothing much happens.

Of course, it is Easter this week, but even that is very low-key. We’re not a particularly Eastery family. I’ve never really understood it on the whole. I still can’t get my head around how the supposed resurrection of the son of God somehow translates into some magical rabbit running around pooping chocolate eggs.

Also, we have a real-life rabbit who genuinely does run around laying little chocolate colored eggs, but I can wholeheartedly assure you, I’m not eating any of them.

Actually though, as chill as it's been for me, it's been a massive week for Grendel, our real-life rescue rabbit. Mark has built him a new home -an outdoor enclosure for him to enjoy his rabbiting days. A veritable bunny McMansion, Hoppywood as it's commonly known, boasts an 8-foot-tall wall - though only because Mark couldn't be arsed sawing off the 8-foot struts. Having made one giant wall, Mark recognized the error of his ways - as in if he didn't sort the height, he’d have to cut down a tree - and adapted his plans to involve a very snappy looking sloped roof. It is indeed an impressively large structure for one singular rabbit - one that Frank Lloyd Wright would be proud of, if he had to build a rabbit enclosure in his backyard for 50 cents.

On Monday morning, Hoppywood was completed. But on Tuesday it rained in LA, so there was a delay on Grendel being able to move in.

On Wednesday the switch was finally made, and Grendel spent his first full day and night in his McMansion. It was a rip-roaring success. That rabbit literally couldn't be happier.

But on Thursday, Mark decided that Grendel’s regular hutch looked ridiculous in Hoppywood, and set about making a purpose-built sleeping area out of old offcuts of wood for possibly the most salubrious pet dwelling in Southern California.

And on Friday morning, when I woke up, Mark reached across to take my hand and said, “It will be ok. Whatever way it goes. We’ll work our way through it.”

Because although everything on the outside can look just fine, we each of us have other stuff going on beneath the surface.

Fergus is rubbish at hiding his inner thoughts. And actually that’s one of the things I love most about him. There are many things he’s been taught over the years, between school, and college, and work, and learning to drive, and just living with people, he has never learned how to disguise his big, kind heart. Grendel is his rabbit and he feels responsible for a little life. Grendel might be the most thrilled with Hoppywood, but Fergus comes a close second.

Lachlan is a deep thinker. There will always be stuff going on in that head that he won’t tell you about until it’s matured and he’s sorted it out. On Friday morning, for example, when I bumped into him in the kitchen, he explained to me why exactly the movie Puss In Boots: The Last Wish was completely underrated.

As for Mark, I would tell you that we generally have no secrets between us. But this week I found that was not true. Mark has consistently stated that he does not like the rabbit. Yet when I went out to the backyard the other morning, I found him on the rocking chair, talking to self same rabbit in a soft voice. True, they could have been like gangsters exchanging threats like in some Guy Ritchie movie, but it all seemed very harmonious to me. And when Mark noticed I was watching, he looked very guilty and muttered, “What could I do? He was anxious trying to settle in.” I guess I can see where Fergus got his big kind heart.

And as for me, I guess I have secrets too. Some I even try to keep secret from myself. Like, for example, I've been having breast pain. That’s not necessarily a big deal, but it's the breast that twice cancer set up camp in.

I kept quiet about it because I'd much rather be thinking about the rabbit, or the backyard, or shit that needs to get done. And then eventually the pain is persistent enough that it dawns on me that dealing with it does actually constitute shit that needs to get done, so I tell Mark, and I call my oncologist.

And I was heading off to the appointment on Friday when I bumped into Lachlan in the kitchen. And I don’t know if you know the plot of Puss In Boots: The Last Wish, but it’s about the cat, Puss, who has used up 8 of his 9 lives and is trying to get a wish so that he can have those 8 lives back again. But then it is explained to Puss that if you live your life well and with the right people, then surely one life is enough.

And Lachlan explained that he had been thinking about that, and how it was a miracle that me, and Mark, and Fergus, existed at the same time as he did in this enormous Universe. And how nobody could want a better life than we have. And why would anyone fear death when they had experienced love in their life? And then he moved himself, and got a bit tearful. And we had a cuddle and I shrugged it off and made light of it, because as adorable as it was, it was difficult timing.

And so, secretly, I skulked off to the doctors, and sat in the corner of the waiting room, wanting to disappear. I felt like a fraud, but I didn’t want to fit in. I used to have cancer, and I don’t now, so I don’t want to fit in at this doctor’s.

And then I saw the doctor, and she told me about how my blood tests had come back clear. And so I told her about the pain. And she did an exam to check for any problems. She pointed to the bit that was sore. “It’s there, right?” she said. I nodded. She smiled. “It’s scar tissue,” she said. “It was a big surgery, and with the scars and then the radiation, breasts do get painful from time to time. I mean, we’ll check it out, obviously, and schedule some tests, but for now, I’d say, it really all looks pretty good.”

And I heaved a huge sigh of relief, and said how much I liked my life to be drama-free and humdrum.

And she said she understood. Then she explained the body can be freed of cancer, but the memory never is. And she told me about a patient of hers who is a 96-year-old woman who comes for her mammograms every year. The 96-year-old doesn't believe she’ll live forever, but she has such a beef with breast cancer that she decided that it’s never going to be the thing to take her out. I said I really understood that.

And then, I wished I hadn't, but because I was so relieved, the words were out of my mouth before I even thought about it.

“What's your youngest patient?” I said.

“25.” She said quietly. “Though I know another doctor in the clinic has a girl who is just 19.”

I nod and shut my face and try not to let my feelings make me behave like a jerk. And we both say nothing for a little while.

“You doing anything for Easter?”I ask.

“Nothing much,” she smiles. “Just hanging out with family. Very quiet”

“Me too,” I say. “I’m looking forward to it. It’s been a little bit of a crazy week. You know my husband has just built a ridiculous rabbit enclosure.” I tell her, for no reason.

She laughs. “For the Easter Bunny? she asks.

“Absolutely not,” I say, “for a regular rescue rabbit. And you don’t want to be eating the chocolate-covered things he lays.” She giggles.

And I walk home because the weather is nice and I want to breathe the air and see the sky, and because I can’t process how grateful I am, and how guilty I feel, and how angry, and how sad, and how I am definitely going to be just like that 96-year-old woman, because that fucker will not be allowed to be the thing that will take me out.

Mark is waiting for me when I get home. “You Ok?” he asks.

I nod. “Everything is normal.” I said, “Verging on humdrum.”

He hugs me. and then in that tender tone I now know he uses with the rabbit, whispers, “I am so glad.”

“Me too,” I say.

Happy whatever you celebrate this Sunday, and may all your eggs not be rabbit ones.

Lynn

Xo

PS: Every time you click on the wee heart emoji, a proper chocolate egg is constructed without any involvement from any rabbit whatsoever.

To support the continuing publication of this work, please consider becoming a paid subscriber, or buy Lynn a cup of tea.

Volume 3 of Notes From The Valley is available in hardback, paperback, audiobook, and eBook: US, UK, Can, Aus

If you do buy anything, please leave a review on the site as it helps people know that I write in proper sentences… erm sometimes xo

P. P. S: If you enjoy talking/listening/stories/ random facts, come and join me and Mr Tweddle at Fish and Bear every Tuesday. For details and booking, go to Fishandbear.net

Easter Bunny - Audio