of fairy tales, alone in the dark
by bam
it came rushing in, that great rare blast of happily-ever-after, so especially delicious in these long days of murky darkness that swirl and swirl around, almost without pause.
the world, downright hungry for a delicious morsel, after all the bitter banquets–wars, tsunamis, mile-wide twisters.
i had a hunch i’d not pass up the chance to swoon, to tear up, alone in the dark, connected by a lit-up box, to a place, a spectacle, so very far away.
and so, when the cat obligingly meowed at 3-something, i ripped back the covers, and tiptoed right behind. i saw the moonlight draped across my garden; i noticed out the window, candles twinkling from the wall of windows in the house next door.
i was alone, but not alone at all.
i clicked on the telly, wrapped a wide wool blanket ’round my chilly legs. i settled in, knowing just next door the house was filled with silver-haired ladies, anglophiles all, gathered in their wedding finery, sipping fizzly drinks, sinking teeth in strawberries. at 3:20 in the morning.
i waited while i watched the royal cars queue toward the abbey. i remembered back to the last time i was awake to watch westminster, the sad dark day in 1997 when they buried another princess, the mother of this handsome groom, this boy we’ve watched grow up.
oh, i know it’s all quiet sappy but isn’t it the prescription that we need to fill our lungs, trigger just a bit the heartbeat, stoke again our dreams of love and solid footing, and waltzing toward the sunset?
i’ll take it, drink it, press it up against my pajama-clad flat chest.
oh, i admit, i’ve been one for fairy tales my whole life long. always root for endings that make me misty-eyed and get my heart pumping surely, strongly, the steady percussion of promise just around the bend.
i love to watch a great romance, stoked in youth on those rare nights when i was invited in by my mostly-stoic mama to stay up late, and watch till the very end, some gauzy-filtered hollywood version of happy-ever-after.
i’d glance over, on those sweet nights, catch my mama brush away a tear as i brushed away my own. a sweet shared lump in the pit of our incurably romantic throats. it made me understand that my mama was so much more than just the one who scolded me for hiding all my peas beneath the rim of the dinner plate, or not picking up my clothes. it was the rare glimpse beyond all that, and perhaps in large measure that’s why i hold those happy-ever-endings so deeply dear.
i’ve always been insatiable in the S.A.P. department.
back when i was little, and full of dreams, i’d read myself to sleep many a night, turning pages in my fairy-tale picture books, absorbed into the pictures, writing my way into the script. imagining. imagining.
the birthing, really, of a life spent peering through a rosy lens. of keeping watch for the ruby slippers that might slide on the smudged-up cinderella, who so deserves the pumpkin carriage.
and isn’t it now a much-needed dose of cast-aside-your-cares? the cares upon us all these days are thick and deep. the worries bend our brow, stoop our shoulders, make our ankles wobble.
we have worries aplenty. nights we lay awake, playing and replaying the script of a story we wish would go away.
so what’s the harm in tiptoeing down the stairs in striped pajamas, and red-plaid robe, as the clock chimes half past three? and we are whisked away, by airwaves, to a city built by kings and queens, to gush and sigh as a fairy tale unfolds, and, because we love to unspool the storyline, stitch together broken parts, we imagine, we hope, that at last some part of the empty place inside a prince’s heart is filled, not by the ghost of his long-gone mama, but by the blushing beauty of his bride?
it was a good stiff drink of jubilation that came rushing in before the dawn. and all the more delicious because it’s one so rarely poured.
and i, among the many commoners, sipped lustily this morn. and pray for peace among us all, as we, scattered here and there and everywhere, join hearts in wishing for a passage of most contented joy.
and happy-ever-after.
did you take in the wedding? of what did it make you dream?? and did you not just love the dress, the lacy sleeves and most especially that demure-yet-sculpted V-neck???
p.s. and as i sat here typing, i caught the lovely couple driving away (the duke of cambridge at the wheel, for heaven’s sake) from the castle in a royal blue aston-martin, with a shiny cloud of mylar red and white and silver balloons bobbing in their trail. breathtaking, really, to see such abundance of joy and shaking off the stiff tradition that puts such distance between the royals and the masses. happy-ever-after already…
my mum in-law worked in England for a year, so we canceled our morning run today and headed over to her house for berries and cream, scones and tea. And yes, we oohed and aahed about the festivitites. But really, two pastors who love one another and love the rhthm of liturgy were not only oohing and aahing at the sights, but the rhythms and words, the psalmody and the prayers. As we sat in the den looking at the trees growing inside of the abbey and the greenery that lined the roadways, the sun rose behind us in Oak Park, and I realized that more mornings should begin with such joy and love. And yes, this hopefully expectant woman sitting on the edge of the couch heard the prayers for family in a whole new light as I am just beginning to feel my little one let me know that there is a new life within me. As amazing as the day was, it didn’t make jealous, rather it reminded me of how blessed I felt on my wedding day to be surrounded by friends and family as my love and I said yes to life together.BAM I will always be an honor roll student alongside you in the school of sap.
I hugged my husband of 20 years after he awoke and told him I don’t need a prince to live happily ever after. Inspired indeed!
that is beautiful, anon! and sly, i love how your whole world now is seen through the lens of that beautiful stirring life within……..
Yes, bam, I was awake with you, though not quite as early. It’s hard to believe, to think back over the years, to remember seeing the young Prince’s parents marry, his mother’s funeral … all the sorrows of the world, set aside for just a moment, to realize we can still hope, still feel joy, still believe in happily ever after, to bow in prayer with people all around the world, hand raised towards the telly, praying for their health, fidelity, well-being … and hope to see their children …. wouldn’t have missed it. Thank you for once again putting my heart into words … such a blessing you are.
So many moments of grace punctuated the event….where to begin? theradiance of the elegant Bride, the relaxed friendliness of the Groom asthey approached the moment… the sweet ,confident exchange of vowsthat assured a happily ever after. The dignity of both Families, the charmof the little maids and pages guided by the gracefully gliding Sister of theBride. The reading by her Brother and the rendering by the Archbishopreflected in the serene expression and penetrating, joy-filled stare ofthe Duke of Edinburgh, Elizabeth’s now aged constant consort. But Othe celebration of those clustered together outdoors who yielded their long-awaited salute to the happy pairii, joined by us clustered around our TVsets in the wee hours of the morning. The tapestry of the day with all its grand ceremony, color, tradition andgoodwill was sheer perfection and most edifying, never to be forgotten.
One other thought — it was the sounds more than anything that really got me in the heart — the roar of the WWII fighters and bomber of the flyover, thinking of all the grief and war England has seen, and the 8-note descending peal of the bells, such a joyous cacophony ….
I relate greatly with your words,”and isn’t it now a much-needed dose of cast-aside-your-cares? the cares upon us all these days are thick and deep. the worries bend our brow, stoop our shoulders, make our ankles wobble.we have worries aplenty. nights we lay awake, playing and replaying the script of a story we wish would go away.so what’s the harm in tiptoeing down the stairs in striped pajamas, and red-plaid robe, as the clock chimes half past three?”Relaxing when a person would probably benefit greatly from it is something I personally haven’t come across much lately, and I’m glad that you are still finding time to put aside life’s stresses for a moment to immerse in the beauty of what is going on around us. I used to be the person who rarely took the time to relax, but once I finally did, it felt as though I started paying more attention to the world than before.A few things that have lingered in my memory:~ On the note of real life fairy tales, a trees with ice (not frost) covered branches during the past winter glistened like a forest made of crystal.~ Sometimes a clear sky starts to take on the colours of a pastel rainbow as the sun nears the horizon before setting.Another good part of relaxing was that after relaxing, more progress was made in dealing with whatever worries I had compared to the time when relaxation was nonexistent for me.