“…bring him peace, bring him joy… he is young… he is
only a boy…” those words by Jean Valjean seemed to affect me so much ever
since I finished watching that Broadway Musical in London. After the show, I
rushed into the back stage congratulating my son for making me proud.
I’m Michael Wilkinson, and it’s been twenty
years since I came back from New York. I went away to escape the things I was
afraid to take responsibility on in London. It was just the hardest days in my
life that I couldn’t get a hold of myself. I wasn’t the best person I knew. I’d
always run away from my problems and would expect them to resolve themselves. I
wasn’t very proud of the way I acted.
Twenty
years ago, I had a big fight with my wife. It’s a typical fight of most couples
that they would start to doubt their marriage; but we keep having “The Talk”
for almost every day. I couldn’t take this kind of chaos. So I moved out. I
started living a few miles away from my family in London; leaving my
six-year-old son and wife alone. Three months later, I got a job in New York as
an accountant. Without any formal goodbye, I went there to take the job, only
leaving a short letter to my family informing them that I’ll work abroad; it’s
like disappearing in the thin air like air itself. I can only imagine their
pain when I left without their sweet goodbye; never knowing when or how to come
back.
It
came a time that the company I work in had to go back to London. I didn’t go
back to the family I left; but stayed in an apartment that I will soon call
home. We were given a month break to rest before we go back working again. So I
toured myself in downtown London as I see the sign of the Broadway Musical, Les
Miserables. I looked immediately at the cast of the musical. Hoping that my son’s
name is there; because I remember how he would dream like he’s John Owen Jones.
I found no William Wilkinson in the cast on our local Broadway Theatre. I saw a
little note beside the cast that there will be another performance in the Royal
Albert Hall. I was so excited that I rushed myself, anxious to see the London
Broadway cast, but by the time I got there, they wouldn’t tell who acted whom.
So I just decided to buy the nearest seat to stage.
“I’m
old; he wouldn’t recognize me even a tiny bit. It’s been twenty years.” a
thought while I prepare myself to go to the hall. I arrived there an hour
before the show start. Sitting there, just waiting, and just hoping that I will
see my son after years of running away.
It
finally started…
It
gave me a weird feeling when I heard the voice of Valjean as he sings “Bring
Him Home.” I just felt warm water drops in my face; seemingly like the morning
dew falling from the leaves of trees. It was the strangest feeling I had in
years.
“God
on high, hear my prayer. In my need, you have always been there..”
More tears… “…bring
him home…”
I stand for an ovation, an ovation
for my son…
I finished watching that Broadway
Musical in London. After the show, I rushed into the back stage congratulating
my son for making me proud. I went there standing in front of him staring at
him as he celebrate his dream come true. I didn’t come any closer… I just left
a note saying that I’ve always been proud of him and left the hall,
disappearing once again from his life…
…running
away from pain once more…
