The Big Surprise

Today, my husband walked in with a pair of unfamiliar wasted talents. These I believed were not mine because they cramped our tiny dark place and had even brighter sparks; they were boasting and fighting to get out like they have been in the company of honorary circles before. They stood tall and made disruptive noises that almost went through our door. They had a voice; I could tell because I heard them cry out in words I had never heard before. These talents were not raw like mine, they had been used before and wanted to break out. Through the thick tape that covered their mouths were stains of black. Their words had melted the tape, for the fire in them was ready to light up. How I wished these talents were mine, how I wished they were my children’s too.

These talents lacked fear for they had tested their potential before. I wanted so much to remove the tape that was on their mouths; I wanted them to teach my children how to stand and walk again, but my husband made sure to be present as I cleaned my shelf of raw talent.

I had to put them next to my children; I had to relive the memories of when I put my children away and told them I would be back again. How was I to face them in this state? If I were to add anything to this shelf they would know I hadn’t come up with a plan yet. They would know I had brought them new company to share in their pain. As I placed those wasted talents next to my children, I knew they did not just see me as their mother; I was the mother who failed their new friends too.

I held on to those wasted talents as I put them down; I was not sure whether to give them a warm embrace or not, but I knew I had bonded with someone else’s used talents. I felt the person’s presence each moment I would touch those talents. Someone had given birth to these wasted talents. Unlike my children, someone had used them, had taken care of them, had told them of what they were, but how could it be that they now were seeking refuge in my room?

I was now the hoarder of wasted talents, like it wasn’t enough that mine had never been used; I had to experience the burden of someone else’s hand me downs too.

“I wanted to find company for our children. They were the only thing I could find that fit this room,” he said. Of course, he did this because he loved me, a grateful person should never have to complain. I had to work with someone else’s wasted energy for me to believe that there was nothing beyond this dark space. I faced my children in shame as I sealed them away with the newly wasted talents, their eyes filled with shades of dark as they rolled around that cold cramped space. As I walked away, I hoped they would bond with the wasted talents, for they still had potential. I hoped they would form a coalition and burn this place to the ground. I would burn in it, but at least they would be free. That day, all I did was to hope – secretly that is.

Tell us: How would you have reacted?