Fig. 1 Map Showing Gloucestershire
Prologue
They were quite good parents, really they were, despite the horrendous secret they kept from me. My mother was inclined to scold me perhaps a bit too much, but I’m sure her intentions were well-founded. You see, she felt a deep-seated need to be better than even she could be and, as I now know, it was all because of the secret she was forced to harbor from me. Eventually it all was bound to unravel, as indeed it did, but I suppose that she pushed it away into the recesses of her consciousness in a desperate attempt to make out that it wasn’t reality. And, although I thought rather unkindly of the both of them when it all came out, in truth it wasn’t really their fault at all. So there it is and has remained all these years, and when you have been apprised of all the facts, you shall understand why it lay at the heart of all that subsequently transpired.
In reading back over what I’ve just written, I suddenly realize that it all must sound rather mysterious, and the truth is - I suppose it actually is - or at least - it was to me. So perhaps I should explain how it all came to pass. But please don’t ask me if it has a happy ending because, you see, I’ve no idea for the simple reason that it hasn’t yet come to an end. Alas, perhaps the best approach would be for me to simply start from the beginning and somehow muddle through the telling of it. It’s complicated, you know, but I shall do my best to keep it as simple and straightforward as possible.
Alas, where to begin…in the interest of brevity I shall dispense with all the details regarding the family roots, as they are after all a matter of public record. Suffice it to say that somewhere back a few hundred years ago we Stewarts were Scottish royalty, which isn’t saying much since the Scots were at that time a quite poor and oppressed lot. My forebears matriculated to the United States, and in due course I was born in Boston in 1973. My father was an academic, and with the advent of worldwide commercial aviation, his international acclaim sent him to far-flung destinations across the globe. I was on quite a few occasions the lucky beneficiary of his renown, meaning that my parents took me along with them on their travels.
There were in fact quite enough sojourns that by the age of ten I was a seasoned world traveler. And it was on one of our trips that very year that my mother took me on a day trip that, although I didn’t know it at the time, was to set the stage for the details I am about to reveal to you. You see, my father was invited to give a speech at a conference in Paris. And while the conference was underway, my mom and I were the fortunate beneficiaries of an unfettered access to the entire city. Thus it was that one languid afternoon she took me to the Eiffel Tower. We grabbed a couple of hotdogs, picnicked on the Champ de Mars and, as we gazed idly at the enormous tower before us, she held up one hand and traced an imaginary arc along one leg of the structure.
“See the arc that it makes?” she suggested.
Observing her motion, I blabbed in baffled confusion, “Yes, but what is the point in that?”
She smiled and responded sagely, “It’s a bit like life, I suppose - it all eventually comes to a single converging point.”
Peering at the enormous panorama before me, I suddenly realized what she meant – there were four separate structures, each on its own gigantic pillar, and somehow Monsieur Gustav Eiffel had made them come together in a single majestic colonnade at the pinnacle of the tower. “My goodness, I’ve never thought of it that way,” I blurted vacuously, “Why do you suppose it was built that way, Mom?”
“According to Monsieur Eiffel,” she replied perceptively, “It had to do with the Earth’s gravity.”
“Wow!” I exclaimed, “That’s amazing! It all came together in such a fantastically harmonious way!”
“Yes, didn’t it,” she agreed, “It’s sort of like our family.”
“Huh?” I uttered, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing dear,” she continued, “It’s just that, it seems to be multiple structures at the base, but in reality, they all come together in a single interconnected structure, a single connected tower with common roots. They are in truth exactly like the roots of our own family tree.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” I responded, but I really didn’t. Still, for some reason that day - and that conversation in particular - remained tucked away in the dark recesses of my subconscious, awaiting just the right stimulus to re-emerge half a lifetime later.
So now, having described my preamble to its completion, I hope that I have sufficiently stimulated your interest for the story that follows – the story of my discovery of my own destiny, or in point of fact - of Merging Destiny.
Part I
Coming Together
Merging Destiny Page 2