Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, ... there's a land that I heard of ... once in a lullaby ...
It had been fairly dull that morning, quite dark in fact, when the first pangs of labour arrived. Unseen eyes, many unseen eyes were watching, anticipating the birth of one who would, in time, change so much. More than a Medium, more than a middleman between the living and the dead, a soon to be born child would go on to lead a life ground in the here and now, while based and dealing with activity from the great beyond.
Whatever forces that foresee such connections or work through them, they are certainly out in force in this moment and are as strong as they can be in any given moment. There are high hopes for this one, none of which, however, are to be made known.
Funny to some degree, that through her own life she never really believed in quite a thing as life after death, she never really disbelieved either though there was never any consideration as to how life in the next world could affect her or her family in this world. On this morning, she could feel it, not quite sure exactly what it was she felt but she could feel it all the same.
Being escorted out of her home, she did not notice the fog, the mist, the smoke emanating out from areas of darkness and stretching out into areas of light. It was there, strong, waiting. He is meant to be born, he is meant to exist, and he is meant to help even if it were to take a while for him to figure this out.
Those unseen eyes came along in the ambulance, they watched as the instructions to breathe were given, they watched when it had been said that all would be well and good, for they believed just that, all would be well and good. They were watching at the hospital when mother was instructed to push, being aided to give birth to her son, the only child she would go on to have.
There would be no hanging around; the child was coming, ready or not. At eleven minutes past eight that baby boy was born. It would be a while, however, until the birth weight was to be confirmed at eight pounds eleven ounces for at the moment of birth it was clear that the child was not breathing.
Quickly and calmly the child was removed from the room before a panicked mother could ask 'where are you taking my son?'
It is only natural for a mother, whether newly crowned or blessed with longevity, to want to be with her child in a moment of trouble, a moment of danger, a moment of need. She makes an attempt to get up, nurses attend to her before she can fully get up, still she tries. It is not long before a calm of sorts returns as the newborn is returned to the room and placed in the arms of his mother.
She caresses the child with the importance the moment brings, easing his cries ... 'there, there little man ... mommy has you.' And soon she begins to sing 'somewhere over the rainbow ...' a song to calm herself as much a song to sing to her new-born. Her voice cracks and there are tears. Indeed, when calmness is complete, a question is asked of her. 'Have you chosen a name for him yet?'
'Yes, my father's name was Colin as now so too is my son's.'
Time moves on and it does so relentlessly. On his eighteenth birthday Colin moves with purpose, he moves with determination. He is not going to allow anything to put him off or prevent him from attending his mother's graveside for the first time since the day she was buried.
It is difficult to cry. It is difficult to feel, feel anything besides anger and blame. He can only ignore it for so long. He can only play pretend for so long. Eventually he is going to have to give in. Eventually he is going to have to acknowledge reality. Facing reality is so much easier to say or think than to actually do.
Time indeed moves on, and the past often comes along too. It can't help but come. The events from almost two years prior will never leave him. There had been nightmares or least that is what they were thought to have been, the intensity of which was growing almost by the day. They were becoming destructive; Colin was becoming destructive, lashing out at the world every chance he had, and something had to be done.
