MORGAN I don’t know what happens after this. I wish you were finding out with me.
DOLORES So I’m waiting for you. Wide-eyed. Awake. For your arrival.
CONSTANTINOPLE I wanted to see what I’d miss. I’m glad I saw. But it isn’t mine after all.
MORGAN I’m glad I held you. I was afraid to do it, and I did it, and it was wonderful after all.
And I will always love you no matter how dead you are.
DOLORES I might love other people in my lifetime.
But not like this.
CONSTANTINOPLE Maybe next time. If there’s a next time. Maybe I’ll try it again. I don’t know.
MORGAN I’ll miss you.
CONSTANTINOPLE I’ll miss you.
MORGAN I’ll miss you.
DOLORES Whenever you want to come out … I’ll be here.
A beat—CONSTANTINOPLE is on the last stair.
CONSTANTINOPLE Thank you.
He steps backward into the dark. And is gone. The light fades on DOLORES.
MORGAN is alone.
A beat—listening—waiting—MORGAN reaches and finds that great thread of sorrow. It will always be there now.
MORGAN Time will pass and I’ll grow older and beautiful things will come to me.
The leaves will fall and winter will come and winter will melt and spring will come and spring will explode into summer which comes like a hot breath and then it will cool into autumn. And this will happen, it will happen, it will happen again and again, and every time it will be beautiful. I will get older and my hair will become silver and the lines around my eyes will deepen and perhaps that too will be beautiful. The pain will stay the same, and I will get stronger and I will find, in that strength, a certain beauty. I will hope for other children, not to replace you, but to share you with them—the love I have for you, that will spill over onto them, that is beautiful. This will be my life, and perhaps—it seems to me—it will be beautiful. And the saddest thing in the world is not sharing it with you.
And I will miss you
And I will miss you
And I miss you … still.
Lights down on MORGAN standing alone.
End of play.
Acknowledgments
Still owes a great deal to Lisa Heineman, who shared with me her experiences of love, motherhood, and grieving in the months after her son, affectionately nicknamed Thor, was stillborn. To Lisa, her partner Glenn Ehrstine, and to Thor, all I can say is: Wow.