There is a HBO T.V. series called the Leftovers, which James and I looked forward to every week. We would bolt in for the night, get the kids into bed, light a good log fire, get a nice meal going and open a bottle of wine and sit and watch hours of this.
The premise is that in one single second 2% of the world’s population just vanish simultaneously. They call this -The Great departure. Nobody has any idea as to their whereabouts or what happened. Those left, owe their name to the title.
It’s bizarrely quite real and accurate and insightful, with regards to the grief rather than the plot. I am now a leftover.
In the first episode Paterson Joseph tells his co-star -“for whoever is joined with all the living, there is hope.” Anyone in trauma is so far from who they once were, so changed, so without hope. The absence of hope will destroy you. It must be sought out actively and restored at any cost.
I’m a leftover but I’m still alive: I still love deeply and I’m trying to stay connected to who I once was. I’m dancing alone but I’m dancing.
For fellow Leftovers Ross and Paul.