This art featured in my memoir, Incandescence Rising Above Darkness is included as a moment of serenity between chapters and does not necessarily have any literal connection to the story.
Incandescence Rising Above Darkness Chapter #17 Life’s Kindling Point
One bolt of lightning can burn an entire forest down. Its destructive capacity can also paradoxically create new life. I felt as if I had been struck by lightning, causing life to reach its kindling point within me. Life igniting from the devastation was as intense as the painful way it happened. Both events changed me. In an instant I was transformed, immediately initiated into the world of violence. I understood I would be different now having no explanation of why or how it could happen. I only knew it was terribly wrong that it did.
Though I still looked like a child, I was no longer young. Experiencing the cruelty people are capable of altered me forever. The vulgar way it happened did not diminish the sacredness of life beginning within me and the strange duality of the pure and the profane. The wonder of conception was not weakened by the violent way it happened; they were always separate. The hurt, fear, and anger I felt about one did not taint the love and wonder about the other. Accepting the odd duality of life was something I had become accustomed to. People are capable of such valor and malice. I had already seen honor and horror. This was another level that terrified me. I had no explanation for how I was certain I was pregnant and sure it was a son. I did not think this was strange at the time.
I felt the unshakable devotion a mother feels for her child that in my inexperience and educational deprivation I had never imagined, wished for, agreed to, or saw coming. None of that mattered. The feeling of loving him came automatically. There was no hesitation in my heart, no debate in my mind, no vacillation in my spirit about doing what I had to do to keep him safe. It was clear what was best for this tiny being. Understanding now better than I ever had before the assault that I was not safe made it matter-of-fact for me to accept that the pain of separation had to be endured, for my child’s well-being.
I knew he did not deserve the way he was conceived and that he did deserve to be raised by adults who were capable and ready to be parents. I had to give him the best chance to thrive and selflessly suffer the deep hurt of letting him go. I knew I had to find the strength for him. That is what good mothers do. My only uncertainty was how I was going to survive my grief of letting go.
I imagined perishing just after giving birth, and the thought gave me a sense of relief. I thought it would be a graceful way out of the enormous anguish after our separation. Part of me wanted to birth him healthy and strong and just let go of my own life.
Clare Cooley
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