My Third Novel's Conclusion, My Heartbreak

My heart begins to break when I think about completing this particular book -- because this narrative has sustained me like no other story I've known. It's both more personal and more universal than my other works. But beyond memory and archetype, it's a cri-de-coeur about needing to become the person one is destined to be. And in the writing, I have met my own life's work, my own fated journey -- having the sense all the while that the pages are suffused with a resonance, an energy, an electrified field that defies explanation. Writers hope and pray to be overtaken by a work in this way -- to be conscripted into passionate service of a profound story. To experience it even once in a lifetime seems a great privilege. I still have several months before this novel is complete, and this constitutes my reprieve. Because I'm not ready for the beauty to end.




Tuesday, September 30, 2025

A Letter to My Son: On the Necessary Reclamation of Sovereignty

 Dxxxxx Sxxxx Mxxxxxxxxxx, I am writing to you today for the purpose of recalling for you who you truly are.  

Your genuine identity, though in hibernation, is still present within you.  Your undiminished soul, though sleeping, still depends on your approaching insistence that it awaken.  

Toward that necessity, I say to you the following:  when the sovereignty of a person has been violated so that he can no longer choose the course of his life, he is not legally, ethically, morally or spiritually responsible for conduct in all ways determined by others.  The guilt is not his to carry.  The shame is not his to bear.  The grief is not his to assume.  

Rather, the full weight of those acts is borne by others who chose to take one of his most sacred and inviolable gifts, his self-determination, away from him without his knowledge or consent.  Most destructive of all is the illusion that the choices of this young man were his own, when in truth his volition had been entirely supplanted by means which remained almost entirely hidden from him.

Let me tell you something, my beloved son.  On the day you were born, you and I had already traveled a great distance together -- a journey filled with overwhelming uncertainty and risk, one that was simultaneously life-threatening and miraculous, terrifying and renewing, filled with tests and sorrow, and, finally, the profound resurgence of an inexhaustible Hope.

When I held you in my arms for the first time, I had never known a more joyful meeting.  Several minutes old, surrounded by an incomprehensible world, exhausted, and wondrous, and newly freed from your confinement -- you smiled at me.  And babies are not supposed to be able to smile for several months.  But there you were -- courageous and faithful and heartfelt and new -- smiling with a joy that spanned the ages.

We had kept faith with one another over a harrowing, treacherous, fraught nine months in which both of our lives had been continuously imperiled.

And then we met for the first time, ecstatically, abundantly, redemptively -- with a smile between two souls, mother and child.

Now, my beloved son, we are keeping faith with one another again.

Once more, we have found ourselves traveling a perilous path.  Yet, despite the horrors you have known at the directive of others, I say to you without hesitation that your soul is as untarnished as it was on the day we first met.  With greater knowledge of the trials you have endured, you will come to accept my certainty as your own.  Until that time, my beloved child, believe the words I speak.  Only the truth is a consolation now.  And the truth is what I offer you, as I always have.

Your soul is virtuous, determined, wise, insistent, kind, protective, brilliant, faithful, honest, unwavering, insightful, deep, courageous, loving and undiminished.

And Dxxxxx, my beloved child, it will awaken anew in this life at our insistence, which is only now beginning.

I love you always, dear one,

Mom

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