Think of it
Like children
Circling the luminous
Skirts of their mother
They spin and twirl–
Dancing siblings
Catching sight
Of the all the others
Even in the darkness
She shines on them
Sunlit wanderers
Wander star (mars)
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Author Archives: Elea Lee
Grandfather of the year…
I always wondered what my father would have said or done if he had been alive when we discovered that C had abused children. I will be honest, I doubt he would have moved mountains.
But I have come across a grandpa who is. In response to concern about a grandchild he has started an online protest, cold-called people warning them and posted hotline numbers.
I do not know the whole story. I just think this response is atypical.
Most of us go the quiet road…
Hic sunt dracones
A word on draco–um. Dragons. There are two branches of dragon ancestry–eastern and western. In the Middle country dragons are the ancestors of empire, the progenitors of kings.
They are, in short, our parents already.
The western tradition is entwined with the eastern in that the Mongols crossed the steppes and who knows what Marco said about them? But the western dragons are a chimerical bunch–they have arms, legs, wings that may or not be vestigial.
Their blood might be either immortal or toxic. They are the clear and long-sighted guardians of treasure, rivers, waters, and lairs.
They have fire in their nostrils. Armored skin. But who knows their hearts? Who knows their ancient souls?
The Baby
At first there was stillness, the even breathing of the child. The dragon marveled at the tiny child–how beautiful he was and how much she loved him.
She could not bear the thought of ever being away from him. She was afraid of what the world held. Plus, she was beginning to worry about food. What would she do? What could she do? She was a dragon.
Arrested Development
When we first watched AD I thought it was brilliant, wacky, dysfunctional.
Then my family came unglued and I realized they were much more functional than us
Cat stories
Years ago there were two stray cats who adopted us. They were pregnant at the same time and had two litters of kittens. J. had the brilliant idea to give the kittens away at a preschool graduation.
One of our children was quite upset about his decision. She wailed as he took them to the school- mom, he’s giving away all the kittens!!!
The same two cats had a subsequent litter and taught their kittens to stay well away from humans–not to be trusted.
The dragon and the human child
It is your choice to believe.
The dragon might have always been a dragon and the story might have been the simple gift of a child.
Or…perhaps the dragon was once a woman who was robbed of her human form by the usual wizardly enchantment. Had she been foolish or proud? Had she refused the wrong man’s hand?
The dragon is not saying. She has wrapped herself in a mantle of smoke. She is thinking about what is to be done with the lovely small thing wrapped in a soft blanket, somehow sleeping next to the warm heft of her serpentine splendor.
Surely no child should be raised by a dragon…
She thinks
And yet how could she bear to lose him?
How could she ever bear to live away from this bundle of light?
Epilogue
justcould have been a much longer book full of the things you find in successful memoirs–descriptions of meals and vacations and conversations in transit. It stops abruptly (except for the necessary introduction) two years ago at the end of 2009.
I did not put the rest of the story in because it was worse, yes, worse.
Our families, church, and many colleagues did not handle our story well. Our children were isolated and lonely. Out of everyone we knew, one couple confronted Charles about what he had done. Most people sent him cards and money. Some said unspeakable things.
Many long acquaintances just withdrew. Some old friends disappeared.
There was something good and valuable that happened.
Dozens of abuse survivors and rape victims shared their stories. We may have winnowed out family and friends, but we are deeply grateful for those who have listened, shared, and grieved with us.
And we now know that the only uncommon thing about our story is our willingness to speak out. Most families hide the story and ignore the damage.
It is time for that to change.
It is long past time.
Every family, church or community that turns a blind eye to an identified predator is responsible for the victims
All the innocent victims.
What I would tell you
What I would tell you
If we spoke a common tongue
Is that he plays for you
The music you gave him
Fills our beautiful house
He misses you
Only he could
Tell you
If he misses you more
Than the day you told him
He was no longer
Your son
Because of me.
Goes with “who is”
Image
Carrying Light 