Sunday, June 3, 2012

Infant Isle

I think it is fairly obvious I have a pronounced light and dark side. 

There are times I am flip and gay- other times dark and brooding. 

I have never made a secret of my duality. 

I have always had it.  It is not new.

I remember as a young man, I performed at a school concert, wherein I delivered my first comedy monologue- & then rendered a heart felt version of Eric Clapton's 'Wonderful Tonight'. 

The coalescence of these polar opposites jarred some audience members...

& yet they made perfect sense to me. 

Even today- I fail to see how this dichotomy can be problematic- even in the face of those who have sought to have me committed for it. 

Schizophrenia?  I have not been diagnosed as such. 

Might just be who I am. 

And any anxiety I might manifest in wrestling with my nature might come from the futility of my attempt to reconcile these opposites- here and in the real world- when in reality, perhaps I ought not fight them- but celebrate them.

However, on this occasion, I will make special note of the duality in my nature to herald the acknowledgement of the serious nature of the following post.

This is indeed serious, Mum.

This short piece is dedicated to those who have lost an infant.

My heart goes out to you today.

A memory popped into my mind this morning- unwelcome as death in the family- from my distance past; some memories have scant regard for subtlety, or etiquette.

I was reminded of something I thought dead and buried, from my time as a Police Officer. 

I remembered the occasion I was called to attend a report of a death. 

My partner and I greeted the ambulance officer outside, shaking his head, 'no'.

We met a distraught couple at the front door of their house.

We were ushered into their bedroom, to find a baby in the bed, wrapped in a blanket.

Dead.

The parents had apparently gone one toke over the line- left the child in a sleeping blanket on high...

and the infant had cooked to death. 

I am not going to dwell on the whys and wherefores.

But I will say...I never quite got over this.

I can only speculate why a dead infant is sadder than any other death.

But for me...I think it might have something to do with another soul who never got a chance.

Perhaps I connect with the notion of something that has died in childhood.

Lost hope, lost opportunity.

A symphony lost.

A cure for cancer never authorised.

This might have been the one person to save the world.

Gone.

Snuffed from existence by parents who sought oblivion for themselves.

bequeathed to their dead child.

legacy extinguished.

Over.  And out.

Today- all day- I think of the parents who have lost a child.

This is something one never quite gets over.

This child was not my child.

And yet- it haunts my memory as if it were.

I feel responsible; as if it were somehow a failing in me.

Now...this will never make up for my failings- whatever they might be- but today...

AND ALL DAY...

I will be thinking of all the parents who have lost a child.

My heart goes out to you.

The omnipotent being of your choice bless you and keep you...

xo JWA

    

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