♫ Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you, its only seed ♫
When a soul is lost to Anthesteria, a rose is placed upon an altar of remembrance. That rose becomes a symbol of their memory, mi amigos, but also their passing.
For the laying down of the rose is the last step in the grieving process. It symbolises acceptance, a poetic finality lain upon the final resting place of one whom was loved so dearly.
♫ It’s the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It’s the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance ♫
You placed your roses on the altar of Michaela, Harold Attano. You moved through the five stages of grief, and your heart sung out each movement of its song.
Movement one, a jarring discord of father’s refusal to accept she was lost. The movement of denial built a sense of frustration within your soul when you first saw that photograph.
Movement two, anger. The drum beats of uncontrollable rage, leading you in the direction of Jasper Redgrave.
Then comes the complex melody of bargaining. A deal struck with Benjamin Pegg, with Mick Gordon and Zeus himself. Those that aided your quest, yet the anger never subsided.
The fourth movement, depression. Unable to change the past, or find reason within the present, your loss was realised in the heaviness of your heart.
The final movement, that of acceptance and your rose of remembrance. A heart, filled with love, finally ready to accept that she was gone.
But while most people reach closure with acceptance, the pounding drumbeat of rage has never left you. Your soul still screams out your song of anger.
But who are you truly angry at?
♫ When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong ♫
For all of your grief, your song has nobody to listen to it. That rose, lying upon Michaela’s altar, has been placed prematurely through your needless grief. You lost the acceptance her rose brought you, all you’re left with is your anger. Eating away at you.
I can only imagine how it must make you feel, mi amigo. Angry that it took a man like Jasper Redgrave to bring truth to light.
Angry that very symbol of love you placed upon her altar, the rose, is now a symbol of yet another failure as a father. The failure to hold onto hope in spite of everything. For you gave up, accepting her death simply because you were told it was so.
Love makes us blind and deaf, Harold. Her song has always been playing, you’ve just tuned it out in your grief. That drum beat that won’t stop has drowned out her voice.
Listen to her song, find again the rose. For when this is done you will need to grieve for her all over again.
♫ Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed ♫