“You had to kill this child, I know”

Last updated on December 1, 2021

I start writing a comment, and what was supposed to be just a simple reply, started to get a life of its own and it got longer and longer -to the point that I was writing a blog post. The old saying

GETTING OLD IS MANDATORY, GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL

brought back memories and so it began. My fingers connected with my brain, and the thoughts started flowing right into the keyboard. The COMMENT got longer and more personal.

I was raised to be a grown-up. My Grandma knew I didn’t have another choice. The day she would die, would be the day I would be forced to leave childhood behind me. It was her job to prepare me to make it in this world without fear, but with a healthy curiosity. She gave me the best tools there were. Education, Humor and a mountain of wisdom. She was clever, the wisdom was invisible at first, it came out magically throughout the years.

“The world is out there waiting for you,” she always told me. “You are so lucky. Nothing will weigh you down. You will leave this small village and the alps behind you, and you will explore places we have been before, and many we have never seen.”

She made it sound like an adventure. Now I know she hid her fear and her sadness about my situation from me. She took the worst and made it sound like the greatest thing that could ever happen. And so she planted a seed, that would soon start sprouting through the dark soil into the light. When she passed away, before my 19th birthday, I wasn’t scared to be alone, instead I was willing and ready to take on my destiny. I was now a grown-up, by years and I better made sure my mindset would follow quickly.

The playtimes and the times of fairytales were over. Now I had to make a living and actually live off what I was making. There was nobody to fall back to, but also nobody who would hold me back.

With her guidance in my mind, I set myself free and did what she raised me to do. The farm fell back to the church, I let everything go beside a few suitcases full of my belongings. I packed the old VW Beatle, left the Alps behind, and drove to Vienna to start a new life.

My inner child came back out again later in life. The fairies and the dreams came back. When I found this poem I thought about my Grandmother. The line “You had to kill this child, I know” is so profound and so heartfelt. It hit me like an arrow, right in the heart and I smiled.

“My child, I know you’re not a child
But I still see you running wild
Between those flowering trees.
Your sparkling dreams, your silver laugh
Your wishes to the stars above
Are just my memories.

And in your eyes the ocean
And in your eyes the sea
The waters frozen over
With your longing to be free.

Yesterday you’d awoken
To a world incredibly old.
This is the age you are broken
Or turned into gold.

You had to kill this child, I know.
To break the arrows and the bow
To shed your skin and change.
The trees are flowering no more
There’s blood upon the tiles floor
This place is dark and strange.

I see you standing in the storm
Holding the curse of youth
Each of you with your story
Each of you with your truth.

Some words will never be spoken
Some stories will never be told.
This is the age you are broken
Or turned into gold.

I didn’t say the world was good.
I hoped by now you understood
Why I could never lie.
I didn’t promise you a thing.
Don’t ask my wintervoice for spring
Just spread your wings and fly.

Though in the hidden garden
Down by the green green lane
The plant of love grows next to
The tree of hate and pain.

So take my tears as a token.
They’ll keep you warm in the cold.
This is the age you are broken
Or turned into gold.

You’ve lived too long among us
To leave without a trace
You’ve lived too short to understand
A thing about this place.

Some of you just sit there smoking
And some are already sold.
This is the age you are broken
Or turned into gold.
This is the age you are broken or turned into gold.”

― Antonia Michaelis, The Storyteller

What a great wonderful life I had and still have. How much luckier can a human being get? I ended up 4,000+ miles away from home. Made another country my home, speaking a language I wasn’t born or raised with. I have seen so much, have learned so much and I am still not done.

(Yes, Peter, that’s what came to my mind when I read your post today, aren’t you glad I didn’t leave it in the comment section?)