#i mean the book's frok 2006

[now-that-i-saw-you]

Thinking of The Road as a very dark metaphor for being a parent & the fears that come with it. You were appointed by God to protect them, you'd do anything, you'd kill anyone for them. Love isn't gentle, it's a shotgun, it's being ready to set someone on fire if they even think about hurting your child. But you still want to teach them to be kind, that there is kindness. In the past, the world was brighter, calmer, happier. You can't show your child how the past was like, there's only the uncertain future. You try so hard to show them that there's hope, to be kind. But how can you be kind when trying to protect your child? You teach them kindness but can't pratice what you preach. You try so hard to shelter them, don't let them see how bad things are, whatever makes it into their brain stays there forever. It doesn't matter, they'll see it. They already have, and they'll see more. You'll watch the world hurt them. You'll watch walls build around their heart. You'll watch them close off to you, because you lied, because they're terrified. You're terrified too. They're going to hurt you, you're going to hurt them. What can you do about it? You don't mean to hurt each other. You're only trying to protect them, then you realize they're doing the same.

Thinking about how the father was always going to die. He always knew it was inevitable. How he walked for months (years?) with the boy to find people, shelter, "the good guys" only to die right before. Thinking about the man who comes to take the child and says they weren't sure whether to leave him to die after his father. Were they only going to take the child to safety once the father was gone? Is it because they know the father will never trust them? You hold your child's hand throughout the journey, but the rest of it they'll have to do by themselves. The only thing you can do until then is teach them to have hope, but hold on tight to the gun.