Queen Mary  

8.5 cm x 12 cm x 2.75 cm

© copyright Brangwynne Purcell


Queen Mary

“The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not.” ~Sondheim

This is what you do. You chose. You can not know what awaits you. You move forward & you move on.

And this is what she did. She chose, to leave. Is it the hope of something better in the leaving or the fear of something worse to remain? Which is it that catapults us forward? Bling faith, buoyed by hope, carried her to this place. The promised land. But sometimes the Promise comes at a cost [and sometimes when you leave you are choosing to be lost forever].

With three small children & all they could carry - they got on a boat. The Queen Mary, that great leaden vessel, weighted with the trunks & dreams of its passengers, brought her young family from Britain’s coast tot he shores of the Americas. New York to Toronto & on to Canadian points west. Go West Young Man. Until they could go no further.

I have often wondered over the years, what it was like for her to leave. Have imagined in my mind mind that good bye as she waved herself away from all that she knew & into her awaiting fate.. Into the life they would make together until he began disassembling it, petal by petal.. Until, at the very end, she had what it was he could never confiscate - her faith & her love.

Exuberant anticipation intermingled her fear & trembling. You have to believe that. You have to believe that what you are leaving can be left & that it shall remain, into that waiting day, for your return. She had to believe that where she was going held more for her, for him for them. More opportunity. More life. More promise.

Sometimes this is it. Your choice is not about you at all; but rather, about the ones you love. And so it was for her; it was about everyone but her. And sometimes what you leave behind is lost to you forever & there is no waiting day of return. And sometimes exile is permanent. And sometimes the hope that carries you forward is not your hope at all, but rather hope transferred from the mother who bore you & who, in myriad ways, laid down her life for you. Again & again & again.

~ Brangwynne Purcell