It lifted. Not all at once. Nor quickly. I would like to say I had some role in the lifting. That I was a prime mover, seed bearer of light, a light that would peek and grow. I wasn't. I stood in abject terror. Terror that what was coming, the light, would not stay. I wanted that light so bad. And I knew I had no control of it. And I had no frailing idea of what to do. Until a child showed me the way.
Song John cannot get out of his head:
Priscilla Ahn Dream
7 comments:
Very nice indeed. :-) Intrigued by what exactly the light is for it could I suppose mean several things...a light out of the darkness that has surrounded him since the death of Cait, recent events pulling him forward, his time alone with Ariel now bringing him the last step of the way, out of guilt, out of grief...it could also be a visitor, or clarification, insight or something else entirely. Nicely done how the roles of parent and child need not be so clear, how terror can fill one and calm the other, how confusion can and sureness, inaction and action. This whole series of chapters, John post Cait, have been so very well done, absolutely heartbreaking at times, the loneliness and sadness and range of thoughts and feelings achingly palpable.
Sweet dreams when you get that far, Poppet, x
Sweetest, you are always so kind to me. In this chapter we are seeing the first signs that John is turning a corner and the first rays of light are returning since the brutal rape of Cait. What I find most interesting is his reaction--terror--not at the light, but at the idea that the light could as quickly leave as it has returned and that he is relatively helpless to do anything about it.
I remember hearing stories as a child about great grandparents who had lived through the Great Depression and how that event, although many years past, still shaped their lives as if it were yesterday. Such is the mark hammered into their psyche. I think John, somewhat to a lesser degree, feels the shadow, fearful of its return, wondering if things can ever be the same again. I wish I had answers for him. I don't.
As always, thank you for your very kind words. You are the chocolate on my pillow, the bird in my window, the sunlight of my morrow. :-)
I had never heard that song, but it was lovely. I wonder if I'll be able to get it out of my head now.
Jen
Very nice! i like the video, thanks for sharing!
Jen and Cyba, you are both very welcome. I had never heard of Ms Ahn before yesterday. As soon as I heard Dream, and then watched the video, I knew the song was special. You can listen to a few more of her songs, in their entirety, on her myspace page. Her debut album comes out next week.
I'm back. Its been so long and I've missed you so much. I have so much to catch up on.
The song is beautiful. I'm glad you posted it. xx
Elise, can you see my arms wide-open and the smile wide on my face as you run to me across the old wooden planks of my blog, the small boat that carried you to my island rocking on gentle azure waves, an old islander tying down the skiff, his smile as wide as his heart is open, and you run, in slow motion, skip, wearing a short skirt, blouse, cotton with thin straps clinging to the lithe curves of your frame, your hair bouncing with the joy in my eyes, seagulls trumpeting your return, wings extended, floating on the anticipation rising from my sighs? Welcome home. :-)
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