Barb’s Reviews > The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry > Status Update

Maureen and Harold stood beside her in silence, coming to terms once more with how utterly life vanishes.

She kept lists in the kitchen and bedroom. There was so much to do. And yet sometimes, when she looked out of the window, or lay awake listening to the gulls crying like children, she felt that despite her activity there was something about it that was inactive, as if she were missing the point.

We hang on by so little, he thought, and felt the full despair of knowing that.

It was hard to have been her guest. It was hard to understand a little and then walk away.

For awhile there was only the silence that carried her words. It struck Harold afresh how life can change in an instant. You could be doing something so everyday -- walking your partner's dog, putting on your shoes, and not knowing that everything you wanted you were about to lose.

He fell silent, and so did Martina. He felt safe with what he had confided. It had been the same with Queenie. You could say things in the car and know she had tucked them somewhere safe among her thoughts, and that she would not judge him for them, or hold it against him In years to come. He supposed that was what friendship was, and regretted all the years he had spent without it.

If he had comforted her, he could have let her go. As it was, he knew that in meeting her, and listening, he was carrying another weight in his heart and he was t sure how much more of that he could take.

It had been unbearable to hear those things, and even though she had wept in his arms afterwards, and apologized, they were in the air when he was alone, and there was no unsaying them.

Harold was so tired he could barely lift his feet, and yet He felt such hope, he was giddy with it. If he kept looking at the things that were bigger than himself, he knew he would make it to Berwick.

The inhuman effort it took sometimes to be normal, and a part of things that appeared easy and everyday. The loneliness of that.