Historical Setting: The Great Skellig in an unknown time
I found a stacked stone wall for a rest before I find a place to stay here or maybe before I decide to go back. Possibly Sister Brigid’s intention in bringing me up here was purposed with setting me free, like the healed bird; or maybe she guided me to Brother Lugh because she felt he needs me. He was the first to find my bones, and it was Brother Lugh who told the others a dead man washed up with the tide.
He saw me there. But, when no dead man was found on the shore for burial, Brother Lugh, who was already grieving for his father, was accused of lying. He sought absolution for the sin of lying and others thought he was obsessed with death and hallucinating about finding a dead man. And now, it is Brother Lugh who is sitting here with me, offering a cup for water, and pouring out his grief.
He says, “When the two novices arrived with the chalice, they said their sponsor had willed the golden gift before he died. My father was a physician, and he knew the plague was spreading again and would soon likely take all who helped the sick. I doubt those novices he supported and appointed before he died even knew his own son was already here?”
“Brother Lugh, just this simple cup of water set me to remembering when Jesus was preparing for his own death and he poured the wine into a cup, and spoke words of our belonging one to another. It was the cup we still share.”
“But now my father sent two strangers to ‘refresh’ our community here, along with the Jesus cup. (His tears flow.) That chalice, is a sign that he is looking for me in heaven but here, I am not even allowed to think of him. The abbot demands I leave my old life — even my father’s memory. I try to pretend to forget, but saying I can forget just becomes another lie.”
“Of course you can’t forget. Grief can never be absolved by pretending to forget. And you can’t ignore the mercy when your own father sent two new brothers and a sign of remembrance. He sent you brothers as assurance that you don’t have to bear grief alone.”
“No, no. My father didn’t tell those brothers that his own son was here. They have no idea their benefactor had any connection to this place. Only I know their benefactor was my father.”
“God knows.”
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 