We write about widowhood as we live it. Together we examine the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of life as a widowed person. The views expressed here are those held by each individual author. We take no credit for their brillance; we just provide them with a forum for expressing their widowed journey in words that are uniquely their own.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Plot Point
One of the things I've maintained since Ian died is a theatre subscription with a couple of friends. It gives me an opportunity to flex the grey-matter and escape to other worlds.
Over the weekend I went to a show I'd been looking forward too in terms of performer and composer. It was a short, caberet style show and was a fantastic showcase for the solo performer, and I could hear the composer's influence.
However the show sat uneasily with me, and it took me a while to figure out why.
The story covered the death/disappearance of the character's mother when he was a young child. And the story line implied that he was not told which it was - she died or she simply left until later in life.
I found it completely bizzare that a child wasn't told; left to try and make sense of what's happening around him.
The show was strange generally, but this plot-point ment I just could not engage with the show. There was a mental block I couldn't overcome.
I can't imagine not telling John that Ian died.
I couldn't pretend that Ian just up and left us.
It makes me wonder how I would have engaged with this show if I'd seen it before Ian died. If that plot point would have bothered me at all.
If I'd even notice it at all.
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