Dear Lucy,
I heard in the news recently that (Hurricane) Matthew had been “downgraded to a Cyclone and went out to sea.”
I remember Matthew when he was just a light breeze. He’d always dreamed of being a Hurricane.
He was called Matthew, not a name he would have chosen. He wanted to be called Thor, or Brick, or Lightning, though he knew that Lightning got annoyed when people used his name. Thunder on the other hand, didn’t care.
Thunder was Matthew’s favourite mentor. He would help him train by making rumbling noises of encouragement whilst Matthew practised knocking over bicycles and boxes. During those days, Matthew had already started to notice his strength, but whilst he was ambitious, he always worried about hurting people, animals, even plants and trees.
He was advised – based on his humanitarian tendencies – that he should settle for being a Blustery Wind, but who cared about a Blustery Wind? They came and went every day, but a Hurricane, now that was making a mark on the world. Literally. So he cast aside his worries about hurting anyone, or at least he thought he had.
He was ecstatic when he finally got the chance to be a Hurricane. When the day came, all his ambition, all his strength was finally unleashed, spinning and bursting out of him at such speed, such raging force, that for a moment, he no longer existed. It had lasted only a few minutes, but it had been thrilling, and now he would be famous.
Of course the inevitable news that he’d killed 12 people devastated him. But he couldn’t have not been a Hurricane; it was what he was meant to be. Or was it the fame that had been irresistible, wanting to see his name in lights? But what about those people whose lights he’d put out? Had they been able to become what they had always wanted to be? Had he ended them before they even found out what that was? He would never be able to forgive himself. Full of sorrow, he set about letting himself disperse into the sea, gone forever.
Just as he shed his final tear and the darkness began to consume him, Matthew felt himself being swept up by a Light Breeze. Her gentle touch carried him, until he felt strong enough to carry himself again. He could feel her love, diluting his pain, filling the space where the Hurricane had once been. Like an unwrapped gift, she had been waiting to unleash her own purpose, to save him.
They became one in a small rain shower and lived out their days as a Light Breeze that occasionally turned into a Blustery Wind.
I hope you enjoyed the latest Dear Lucy blog. Feel free to contact me at cpsdayoff@gmail.com.
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