Never one for the grande passion, she preferred the emotional shallows.
Not for her the coup de foudre.
The ardent blaze.
Not for her the histrionics,
The torrid underbelly of yearning.
No hysteria.
Except for when her daughter died.
Whatever drives the tempest?
It was that.
That she lacked.
Her emotions were neat and small with carefully folded corners.
Bland. Cautious.
With caveats dangling from them.
Just in case.
She admired women with pixie cuts and flashing eyes.
Fearless with quick wits.
But she herself had long straight hair that hung, spinelessly.
Much like the head that it was attached to.
But she was fond.
Fond.
There was something that she could do.
Be fond.
So fond that she ached.
"Must you go?" she asked.
"Must you?"
And all her mild love hung suspended in the air.
Pale milky globules. Useless.
"I enjoyed your company. Must you go?"
It was a rhetorical question.
The gate is strait and the way is narrow.
No matter where it leads.
It can only accommodate single file.
One.
All fondly grasping hands must release here.
One.
Not two. Not even one and a fraction.
Whatever fraction of a person Georgina may be.
Or perhaps she is one. A whole one. Unity.
"Must you go?"
"Yes, I must."
Written, almost in direct opposition to, Antonia Fraser's book of the same name about her relationship with Harold Pinter. Their flames. My own ashes. A beginning and an ending.
I haven't read it. I just liked the title.
Quantification of people is math that I've never mastered...
ReplyDeleteLike the single file imagery
This is gorgeous.
ReplyDeleteDear Catherine,
ReplyDeleteyou are deep and beautiful
and significant and strong
like a current running swiftly
beneath still waters
that faithfully reflect the sky.
Thank you vera kate xo
DeleteOh, Vera Kate, Yes!
ReplyDeleteI was reading and thinking how I love your words and you, Catherine W. And I couldn't get anything out that said what I wanted to say...
So I'm seconding Vera Kate. She did it. (Vera Kate, your comments!)
Love this, love you,
Cathy in Missouri
P.S. Whoever that is saying you're spineless doesn't know you one bit. Not One Bit. **Liar**
Picking fights with the bully again. Can't help it.
Oh Cathy. You've even got me offering to fight things so perhaps I'm not quite as spineless as I believe!
DeleteThis is beautiful. I can totally get the whole single file, only one can enter line. Perfectly said.
ReplyDeleteLove to you.
"It can only accommodate single file."
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Catherine...
Never. Stop. Blogging.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
xo
This is lovely - I'm fixated on
ReplyDelete"And all her mild love hung suspended in the air.
Pale milky globules. Useless."
But I feel compelled to tell you that I've often found the passion in your writing remarkable. There are flames, and there are ashes, and then there are banked fires that may not burn dramatically but last and last, keeping you warm in the dark.
Thank you Erica. Thank you so much. I like the imagery of the banked fire, sometimes I worry that my husband and living children get a second-rate kind of love. Perhaps even Georgina does? But perhaps slow burning lasts longest, violent delights and violent ends and all that.
DeleteBreath-taking, Catherine. I've been back to read a few times because I love this and find it so moving. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteLike Erica said, just because you don't scream and yell and tear your hair out and have hysterics doesn't make you feel any less. Whether your love for Georgina, and your reaction to her death is quiet or loud, it never invalidates it. Its clear from your words, from this whole place that you feel it all very deeply, and articulate it beautifully.
ReplyDeleteYour words on this make me feel a little sad - as though you feel inadequate... You are not. Us readers can see how wonderful a mother you are to all three of your children. And a slightly quieter personality is not a weaker one.
xx
Thank you Aoife. And you are right. I do feel inadequate. I looked back at quite a few of my recent posts and comments and inadequacy seems to be a bit of a theme! But I just feel so weak in the face of this grief, my own and others. As though I could never feel enough, not necessarily be sad enough, but just . . . . enough. Sigh.
DeleteHear, hear Erica, Aoife, all!
ReplyDelete"a slightly quieter personality is not a weaker one"
and
"There are flames, and there are ashes, and then there are banked fires that may not burn dramatically but last and last, keeping you warm in the dark."
Right, right on.
In the CW Fan Club,
Cathy in Missouri
So poetic and soulful. Your words always seem to deeply resonate with me, and you express yourself beautifully. xo
ReplyDeleteJust beautiful. xx
ReplyDeleteI think istead of spineless you should call it grace. No matter the utterance from your lips your heart breaks just the same love.
ReplyDeleteLove this post, Catherine. I don't want to sully it by blabbing on in your comments section but I've been thinking about this lately. Was it me? What if I'd been more adamant? Would she have stayed? Maybe now that I know how to really want... Missing little Georgina with you.
ReplyDeleteI have no words. Yours are so deep and thought provoking and creative.
ReplyDeletex <3 o