Epiphany On Prince Edward Island

By Maryanna Gabriel

Trying to reach the future through the past
We are still trying to carve tomorrow from our tombstone-
This was not meant to be a sad song,
I have sung too much of that before,

Right now I only want to be with you,

Until the morning dew comes,

I want to take you to the island,

And trace your footprints in the sand.
The Island sung by Celtic Thunder

Me And Prince Edward Island

 I am an island girl after all. I feel a novel coming on. Do I write of the low, flat, green landscape with acres of potato plants in blossom under a clear blue sky? Or of the Confederation Bridge which is the “longest bridge over ice-covered waters in the world at 12.9 kilometers"? Or of tall, formal, churches, lovingly cared for and surrounded by tombstones? Or the plethora of white houses with green shutters? Upon driving the Cavendish shore I found the ghost of myself walking here. Pictured, is all of us in the van camping on Prince Edward Island, a proclivity that seems to run in the family.

Our Family Camping On Prince Edward Island

I finally found Green Gables past the Lake Of Shining Waters and although the entrance had changed it was as I remembered it. I walked Lovers Lane and the Haunted Wood which took me to the homestead where Maud lived with her grandparents. As I returned, two busloads of people from Japan arrived. After Pearl Harbour a young Japanese woman translated Anne Of Green Gables and because of her, the book became compulsory reading in the schools in Japan. It was much loved there. I wondered what they were thinking?    
                                                                                               
In Cavendish, opposite The Anne Shirley Motel, I found L.M. Montgomery's final resting place. Her grave is well tended. She is clearly honoured and cherished. Later that evening, after cleaning the red dirt streaked across my feet and calves, I read more of Mary Rubio's excellent biography. 

Green Gables Just As I Remembered It

Lucy Maude Is Cherished

I was determined to understand how the story of her life ended for it seemed to me in my travels that so much was not said, as if her memory and what happened was being protected from the prying eyes of the public by those that spoke of her, not just for her sake, but for what has happened with the heirs. It all seemed so mysterious. As I read it seemed much was omitted but still the hints brought a clarity and I found myself deeply taken aback. It is a ripping read, rife with embezzlement, deceit, indiscretions of the worst kind, the covering up, the dysfunction, bromides and laudanum, and varying drawbacks of fame and fortune. Maude's heart was most certainly broken by those she loved. I think we can all relate to that. Those that loved her did not know how to help her, or withheld how to help her, or abetted her in the path she walked in the end.

Truth comes out. It always does. Even in the Victorian era. The soul needs the truth and without it there is no point. She had so much soul. She seems so much a part of me, my childhood, so much so that I feel I know her very well. It was like getting to know the truth about a very dear friend and my heart goes out to her in her sorrow and incredible deep grief. She was just plumb worn out in the end. Her writing sustained me as a young woman growing up, along with many other authors. I read the Anne books, the Pat books, the Emily books. I found therein a model of womanhood which seemed gracious and spirited to me. In my return to this place of my childhood and to this author who has brought so much joy to so many, I find I am in an epiphany about my own life.

I have understood in a kind of inward gestalt I did not even know was needed or that I was seeking,  a validation for the challenges that my own journey has presented to me. It is an exit I found and walked through long ago. In spite of the strange and heartbreaking things people do, the path that was mine to walk has been true. I feel a profound peace. I have had a conversation or two with the ghost of Lucy Maud offering to her prayers in gratitude for all the love her writings surrounded me as a child growing up. I owe her. I whisper to her that love is who she really is, that she did do it all just right and to please lay the burden down. It feels like she agreed and her ghost let go and took flight. I did not know she would be the agente provocateur for putting my own ghosts to rest. 
Do you think I could do a Julie Julia thing with this? Maryanna Maude. Hmmmm. It is as though her story has not really been told. It is so much more interesting and engaging than the Anne story. She is a complex and compelling woman who is to be admired for what she achieved at a unique time in history. I bet Meryl Streep would do a bang up job. Maybe she is looking for work. I'll give her a ring when I get home to discuss the script.