[WM] 107.2.C - James Baldwin Quote
"The world is before you and you need not take it or leave it as when you came in."- James Baldwin
How can I begin to describe how we got from where we were to where we are? I've tried, and the words that come do not begin to describe it. They certainly don't make an impact on my children or granddaughter. That we were once like them, that we saw things, went through things, more terrible even than what they've seen and been through so far they do not seem to grasp. The things I've seen in my dreams, the nightmares that came far too young and too true...
I suppose it is always the way. I'd say we didn't listen to our parents' wisdom either, but, then, we didn't have it to listen to, because they were dead. All we had was each other, and what had happened, and a vow to never let it happen again, no matter what.
And we had him.
We took control of our destinies. We took control of our world. We made it safe for us and for them. We kept our secrets, we did what was necessary. Were the choices always easy? Were they ones I wanted to make at that age...at any age? Did I dream of blood on my hands, and graves under my feet, and children who despise me? Of course not.
Do I regret what we did?
...No.
Oh, perhaps a thing here or there, yes. There were things we could have handled better, words we should have heeded, prisoners we shouldn't have taken.
But for 45 years, we lived in safety and peace. We raised our children in peace, gave them lives where they were not hunted, kept the most dangerous of us off the streets to save both those they might hurt and ourselves from discovery. They look at me with such judgment in their eyes, but how many apocalypses did we avert? How many times have we saved the world? They haven't thought to ask.
What do I dream? What do I see? Why did we follow him? Why did we split? Why did I allow them to take him away...? Though perhaps that is just the question I ask myself.
They look at me and see something evil, something they think they'd never become. Somehow, someway they would have done it differently.
Some days I think maybe I should let them try.
Then I remember. I remember what it was like, and I remember why we came together, what we were fighting for, and I look at them and know...they aren't ready, and I'm not done yet.
How can I begin to describe how we got from where we were to where we are? I've tried, and the words that come do not begin to describe it. They certainly don't make an impact on my children or granddaughter. That we were once like them, that we saw things, went through things, more terrible even than what they've seen and been through so far they do not seem to grasp. The things I've seen in my dreams, the nightmares that came far too young and too true...
I suppose it is always the way. I'd say we didn't listen to our parents' wisdom either, but, then, we didn't have it to listen to, because they were dead. All we had was each other, and what had happened, and a vow to never let it happen again, no matter what.
And we had him.
We took control of our destinies. We took control of our world. We made it safe for us and for them. We kept our secrets, we did what was necessary. Were the choices always easy? Were they ones I wanted to make at that age...at any age? Did I dream of blood on my hands, and graves under my feet, and children who despise me? Of course not.
Do I regret what we did?
...No.
Oh, perhaps a thing here or there, yes. There were things we could have handled better, words we should have heeded, prisoners we shouldn't have taken.
But for 45 years, we lived in safety and peace. We raised our children in peace, gave them lives where they were not hunted, kept the most dangerous of us off the streets to save both those they might hurt and ourselves from discovery. They look at me with such judgment in their eyes, but how many apocalypses did we avert? How many times have we saved the world? They haven't thought to ask.
What do I dream? What do I see? Why did we follow him? Why did we split? Why did I allow them to take him away...? Though perhaps that is just the question I ask myself.
They look at me and see something evil, something they think they'd never become. Somehow, someway they would have done it differently.
Some days I think maybe I should let them try.
Then I remember. I remember what it was like, and I remember why we came together, what we were fighting for, and I look at them and know...they aren't ready, and I'm not done yet.