The Chat

“At the end of the day,” I look out over the vibrant, green valley and I take it all in. I read the landscape and I listen to it. I feel it within me, and not for the first time I wonder whether it is real, or just something my unconscious projects before me in order to make this life bearable, “it’s a beautiful world.”

I sit in the noisy silence of the hilltop and allow myself just to be. The rest of the words spill out of me with my next exhalation, “at the beginning of the day, it’s also a beautiful world. Trouble is, we busy ourselves to such an extent that by elevenses, we are ignorant of that beauty and missing out on so much as we trudge a rut of our own making.”

It is nearing the end of my day. I feel the change approaching. A new beginning. The predominant feeling that heralds this change is a dull ache in my gut, it writhes around as though I am pregnant. And I suppose I am. Sometimes, I think of it as an alien. It hugged my face and smothered me with a dark love, then left me alone in the night, unaware of the Dark Gift it bestowed upon me.

I am the recipient of a Dark Gift that has grown within me for such an age. I am weary and prone to bouts of sadness at a world that contains charming parasites that were once human. Hollowed out by a darkness that will never allow them to be themselves ever again. 

At least that fate is not mine. I know this with a divine certainty, because I see this world well. I know this, because as the Dark Gift grew, so too did my light. I have much to be thankful for, even the evil that has desired my end for the best part of twenty years.

I sit on the moisture clad grass, appreciating the feeling of damp communicating itself via my cold arse. I am here. I am alive. I have the capacity to feel. I also have the ability to send my avatar to the small white building down in the valley. That avatar now stands in the welcoming pub, with its back to a roaring fire. I can feel that warmth and I smile a contented smile. We all have our dreams and fantasies, the trick to living is to make them real.

He clears his throat and I hear so much in that simple gesture. He is with me in a way few people ever will be. He is with me always. Has been ever since he grew in his mother’s belly. The Good Gift that makes it all worthwhile. The one person I could never cease to love, come what may. He taught me how to truly love. How to be a Dad. How to be. I am here because of him, just as much as he is here because of me.

“Dad?” I nod and smile, he called me Daddy for such a long while, and that is what I hear now. What I will hear always. We hear what we want to hear and this is a harmless indulgence, “what is it that you would say to me, if you knew I was listening and I would take those words with me for the rest of my days, passing them on as best I can, when the time comes?”

My initial answer is a lumbering breath that brings with it fat globes of salty tears. My voice is temporarily disabled, just as I need it most. This question, or a question like it, is both an honour and a joy. A son taking a moment to listen to his father. A completion of a wheel that is all too often broken and discarded at the roadside of life. I dare not look away from the undulating valley before me. Spells are so easily broken. There are words I must say, and now I have the opportunity to say them I wilt in the heat of surprise expectation. I expect I will not do this justice. The advice and support I wish to afford my little man are best given over the course of a lifetime via the medium of a loving relationship. 

And so this is unnatural in its beauty. A rare moment afforded me, but never allowed to many. We are so often cheated in our cheating ways. The opportunities are there, but in averting our eyes from the beauty around us, we fail to see what it is we could do. What we should do. The very reason for our being is denied us by our downcast eyes.

“What would I say?” I ask the snaking valley before me. “I could talk for a lifetime and I could never say enough. Read. Listen. Learn from those around you. Everyone has a story. Live a life of gratitude come what may. There is always a wealth of bounty to be grateful for.”

I smile, “walk the hard yards, but take time to enjoy the view. Strive for balance. Never cease striving to achieve that balance that creates peace and harmony in life. There is a rhythm to life. A dance we must dance. We are unique and we owe a life. Live it and love it.”

So much to say. But as the words flow from me, I realise that they are cliches. They can only carry weight if they are pondered and lived, “there is no meaning out there before us. We create meaning. That is what we are here to do. We are born worthy and our worth is in how we live. And if you ever wonder what it’s all about. If you ever question your worth? Remember one thing. You are loved. Always have been and always will be. We are nothing without love, but flip that around. Turn the important things around and upside down and seek more perspective and deeper understanding. You are something with love. To love, to live a life in love, is what it’s all about. Anything else is a waste. Or worse.”

I take a moment. We have both experienced worse. The abyss came and found us and we were required to stare into it. To face our fears and conquer them in order to live again. There is still a part of me that is susceptible to denial. I am a fearful warrior. My scars will never truly heal. They speak to me in the dead of night. We are all flawed. Our beauty lies within those flaws. My wounds open me up to the world and my light shines through them. My shine is only possible thanks to those who loved me. The light of love came in through those wounds too, “you saved me. Never forget that. Your love saw me through my darkest days. We are not alone when we are loved. We are connected. Grounded. Centred. Held in a safe place. A harbour during the worst of storms. Our love lights the way. Never forget. Never lose sight of that.

“Fear and worry are a cancer. Noise that prevents life. So much of our time and energy is wasted on pointless illusion. Obstacles are there to be overcome. Living is climbing over obstacles. Dealing with things is merely learning. We have wonderful brains and strong hearts. We are capable of far more than we ever give ourselves credit for.

“Think about it. Always think about it. Always respond. Never react. How did we come to be here, you and I? Not on this hill. But this flesh. This unique configuration of heart, mind, gut and soul. We are here thanks to every generation that went before us. They made us possible. They imbued us with hopes and dreams. They wanted more for us than they could ever achieve in their lifetimes. In this, we are truly special. Don’t ever doubt that. You have been passed a baton. Carry it responsibly and pay as much as you can forward; love, hope and dreams.

“I would tell you to live simply. That possessions have a habit of possessing us. See things for what they really are. Focus your energy on what counts. That’s people, not things. I would remind you that you are in competition with only one person, and that is you. You are not quite the same person today as you were yesterday. Be better!

“Walk!” I laugh a chesty and wheezy laugh. “Do this! Get away from it all and be in it all. Life is simple and we are small. Yet we are a part of everything and so we are everything. Feel the energy around you and align yours with the path that is meant for you. The path that awaited your arrival and was always meant for you. Walk the line between the two opposing forces of the universe and find your harmony. Find people with similar energy. Lift each other up, never tear each other down.

I sigh, wanting to say so much more, “but then. You knew all of this. You knew it all didn’t you? That question of yours was a trick of the wind, reminding me that your very being asked it of me time and again.”

I smile. Smiling is a habit of gratitude, “you have been the best son a man could ever have wished for. A credit to me, your mother and your grandparents. You went beyond anything I could have hoped for or imagined. From the moment you were born, I saw the world afresh. I often saw things through your eyes, and I was reminded of the miracle of this life of ours. I don’t think I knew what love truly was until you turned up in my life. You changed me and I kept on changing. I had to grow beyond you and your love in order to be the person I was always meant to be, and to be your Dad into the bargain.

“The reciprocal nature of our loving connections never ceases to amaze me. The fizz of the energy between us. You showed me the way and reminded me that it was for me to show you the way. An endless cycle that moved us ever forward. We do not work without these connections. We are nothing without love. And once we connect lovingly, there is no going back. We are infinite.” 

I look out over the valley and I take it all in. Inhaling its essence. It fills me and dilutes the darkness that would pull me away from where I truly belong. We live with that dark temptation all through our lives. My eyes travel over the paths on the opposite hillsides, we have walked this place many times over the years. The two of us. Sometimes we would chat away. A carefree exchange of words. Other times, I would listen to an incessant download from him, marvelling at where the back-to-back monologues came from. But then, I was just as capable of that sort of stream. Then there were the comfortable silences that spoke of so much more than words can. Companionship shared by two people who have learnt enough about each other that they know how to be with each other in the best of ways. A quiet dance that speaks of deep joy.

Tears roll down my face again. I pat the ground beside me in a display of comfort and affection. And of course he isn’t there. He died last month. My only child. My only son. And here endeth the lesson. As he grew up, I dreamt of his children and the wonderful gig of being their silly grandfather. I thought the Dark Gift would steal that from me, but instead, the wheel of life turned and dealt me another of its lessons. Our tomorrows are never certain. And so, I give thanks for all the tomorrows we had together. I give thanks for how large my heart grew thanks to him. I have lived a life. I am blessed. I have been truly gifted with both the dark and light of life. There cannot be one, without the other. A price must be paid for anything of value. I do not begrudge the price. I regret nothing. Laying back now, staring up at the clouds that always congregate over these hills, I feel the Dark Gift on the move. I open my mouth to utter my final words to the clouds that have always born witness to my time here, but there are none. Just as well. I’ve already said my peace. Now there is only peace and beauty to follow my final hard yards. I brought him here to say a goodbye that can never be a goodbye. We are one in love. One and endless. The sky dims as I brighten.