..Happily ever after.
That’s the story, but in this case,
The wolf wins,
Jack the Giant Killer falls
No youngest son outsmarts the shadows;
in this case the most that can be said
of those left
of those eager to believe
of the listeners at the doors of faith,
yes the most that can be said is
And they lived…
I wrote this for my son Theo when he died, nineteen years ago. The (for me) unfortunate concurrence of National Happiness Day and National Storytelling Day on his birthday prompt me to post it. Not every story has a happy ending.
Not many people have seen it, and I hope the few new people who do now aren’t upset by it. It stands, I guess, as a remembrance that Happiness is not (or should not be) a smug thing but a springboard for compassionate action, and that for millions of people their lives are far worse than mine, and for millions the sadness of losing a child is a painful reality. And as it is this afternoon I have chopped logs and chased away the shadows, and am typing tentatively as I watch a kestrel on the top of a tree in our garden, I rejoice in my family and my dear friends, but…
nicktomjoe 