Falling Hero
Editor’s Note: For the month of December, I’m sharing creative pieces weekly rather than my bi-weekly long-form non-fiction musings.
This week, I’m reflecting on the proverb “it takes a village [to raise a child]”.
I completely agree with this sentiment. I myself am the product of such thinking, which I wrote about earlier this year. But as I’ve grown up, I’m recognizing how such an upbringing can turn into a mirage if it’s not adapted.
Those who we placed on a pedestal as children can quickly fall when they’re no longer able to play the role we once assigned to them.
Falling Hero
Like a shooting star, I wish upon you and yearn for your fate to be different than it is, or has already become. But to no avail.
You seem to fade just as quickly as you appeared. You blaze past me faster than I can fathom. It gives me a false sense of hope.
I guess you mostly just existed in my mind anyhow.
I would run with my little feet through the halls of a home you made me feel was mine.
I woke you up even before I woke up the sun.
So early, it couldn't be called morning just yet.
You would teach me things and I would thank you by waking you up again the next morning, with my bright eyes and naive giggles knocking at your door.
Back then you wore unmistakable smiles and dealt me your unfaltering hand to raise me fearless and with pride. No crest upon your chest, no cape upon your shoulders – but you were my hero anyways.
I looked at you with such awe. You were so strong and brave.
Superhuman.
…silly girl.
I should have known that only a child’s eyes can see greatness
in the ordinary.
It’s beautiful and tragic, and makes me think – am I someone’s falling hero too? Are you?
Xx,
Shiv
Stories by Shiv is part of Wayfinder, a writer collective exploring questions that matter.