The New Beginning: Nunsignor Book I

The Mid 50s- Emigration

Monologue

10 years ago...

21st of January, 1955

It was one of the days of late January when the British winter could have some mercy with its snow quantity, freezed grounds,blanketed in glacial transparent ice with snow surrounding them as a layer. It was sunny, despite the low temperatures outside. 

Anyway Timothy had determined himself to emigrate in the USA since his early childhood though his audacity sent an inward message to his conscience that he should wait when he is fully prepared, being responsible to establish in the another part of the world where he hasn't got any friends, a lover or somebody with whom he could trust. Everything was particularly obscure for him in the USA. He was rather one of the most popular and remarkable priests in London, deliriously devoted and loyal person to the church, to the Catholicism and God himself who answers his questions if they are either positive or negative. He has an intact reputation as a priest since his early adulthood. 

The 35 years old man had already discussed with his entire family including his siblings that he is relocating himself from England in the USA, living in a smaller state as he had always dreamt to live in Boston, Massachusetts where he could find some serenity, a fresh air and frendlier people as well. The discussion they had was a week before his flight to Boston, Massachusetts, the USA. 

What his heart is going to be wretched for is actually his family including his mother Julietta, his father Timon, his siblings John, Daniel and Anna once he grabbed his suitcases with his luggage, leaving his fatherland as he emigrates in another one. However, he feels like he doesn't belongs to live where he was born. 

It wasn't a simple decision of his but London wasn't his cup of a tea by the way. He spent a sleepless night, by preparing his luggage, constantly thinking and wondering how the life is going to be as soon as he moves somewhere else. A place where he could feel more tranquility surrounding him, developing his own life either following the better or worse path. Accordingly, he won't feel in the same way once he establishes himself somewhere else rather than in his fatherland where he was born, was raised by his affectionate parents and siblings. It was such a heartache for him for those thoughts which were swimming in his head the night before his flight. Furthermore, he was thinking of his family and how they will apparently live with one family member less in their family. The young Monsignor has a handful motives why he prefers to move in the USA. One of them is not only the unruffled life in Boston, besides the fact that he wants to pursue his dream of becoming the first prominent, respected and honored Anglo-American priest in a large country. His flight is going to be in the late afternoon of 21st of January.

As he wore his sacred clothes a little before his baggage being checked by the staff for carriage of leery items in priest's suitcases, his whole family from his siblings to his biological parents spoke to him like it was their final time before the lethal and versatile apocalypse itself. They discussed all along about their childhood and youth memories as well. Further, Timothy exchanged pretty tight, warm and reassuring hugs for goodbye with Julietta, Timon, Anna, John and Daniel as they shed a couple of tears including the aspiring and headstrong Monsignor who couldn't help, nevertheless sobbing as he bearhugged each family member, promising them that one day in the future he is going to see them again, just a several seconds before his luggage's check from the airport's staff. When it was a high time he to leave, he did it as his whole family started to watch, observing how their significant family member is walking with his turned back until he vanishes from their sight. Their bodies betrayed them as they shed tears again and starting to sob, meantime soothing each other in firm and comforting hug.

By the way, the young priest as he was already in the airplane, sitting by himself next to one of the air windows which was fortunately closed, he was watching from high the winter landscape as his chocolate brown eyes were swollen and somewhat reddish, the nostalgia is going to torture him for the rest of his life until he doesn't reborns back at England. Furthermore, he could recall the words which he and some of his family members exchanged to each other in their last discussion about the flight to Boston.

As you know already one of my childhood memories which I don't want to miss and neglect it is actually to move in the USA, becoming one of the notablest Anglo-American priest in Massachusetts, where I wish I could live and sense the serenity and magnificent nature though it is not that populated and large like London. (Timothy)

But...Timothy, my son! Can't you realise how nostalgic are you going to feel once you are far away not only from us, besides from where do you come actually? (Julietta)

Son, I like the way you think and perceive the things though we will miss you so much. (Timon)

Brother? How could you dare to do such egocentric thing due to that the entire London knows you and you just want the same thing in Boston?! (Daniel)

Timothy? If you dare to do it, how I am going to live without you? (John)

You cannot do this to us. Just because of your wish, you might not care about our family and forget if either somebody from our family has passed away. (Anna)

In spite of the majority of Timothy's family disagreement, they respected and supported his decision. He explained to them smartly every detail about his inducements to emigrate somewhere else where he could feel like a human being with a saint soul again. The only family members of the juvenile priest who backed him up were his older brother John and their father Timon as usually. Whilst the ones who disagreed mostly were Julietta and Anna, of course! 

As the plane was in an action, Timothy whispered to himself whilst watching how the airplane was slowly flying "Goodbye England!" as his both hands were on his thighs, sitting in a normal masculine position. He smiled a little as he wiped his own tears with his hand, feeling his forehead sweating as it was wiped either too. His heart beats were rapid as they were aching, bleeding from his scatter with his parents and siblings. It couldn't help him, howsoever, breaking his fragile heart with every passed second as the silhouette of the invisible but invulnerable knife was slowly penetrating his chest in a languid way as the sharp tip was already, gradually digging its undiscovered areas of his skin's chest. The only person who was by his side when he is withdrawing every kilometre from his birthplace is actually God, sending plenty and diversity of holy messages to him as warnings and answers to his questions and responses.

To be continued...