(First-Person Version): “When the Light Comes In”

The last episode, The Last Light, has begat this version.This time it's Harold the character talking about the same thing. Written and performed by James Lott Jr

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
Last week, we featured a short story written by myself,
James la Junior, called The Last Light. This week we're
featuring a short story a first person version called When
the Light Comes In. It's the person who is of
that story, Harold. It's now him talking about the end

(00:27):
of his life. So it's a different perspective. So that
was first one. Last week. It's me telling a story
in a previous episode. Now it's him telling his end
of life story. Here we go. The sun is setting
outside my window, that warm, golden kind of light that

(00:49):
softens everything it touches. Funny how after all these years,
I am just now learning to appreciate the quiet. I
guess I was always too busy chasing life to sit
down still with it. I can feel it now, the
nearing of the end of my days. Not in a

(01:09):
frightening way, more like a gentle awareness, a nod from
the universe saying it's almost time, and for once, I'm
not fighting it, I'm not questioning it. I'm just here.
If you had asked me years ago whether everything happens

(01:29):
for a reason, I would have laughed or argued or
listed off every heartbreak, every disappointment, every wrong turn, and
I thought ruined me. I spent so much time replaying
the past, begging it to make sense. But tonight, as
a soft light spills across my hands, I see it differently.

(01:53):
I think about losing that big job in my forties.
How I thought it was the end of everything I'd built.
I didn't know it was pushing me toward the repair
shop where i'd meet the women who changed my world
with one smile. I think about losing her too soon.
How the pain nearly swallowed me whole. But now I

(02:16):
see where what came from it. How I learned how
to hold people tighter. How I learned to tell my
children I loved them whatever I could. How I learned
that grief it's just love without a destination. I think
about my kids, grown now, scattered across cities and states

(02:40):
I can't always pronounce. They call me more often than
I deserve. They live boldly, they live honestly. They're proof
that I did something right, even on the days I
felt I was failing. I think about all the things
I used to regret, the mistakes, the mischances, the words

(03:01):
I said too late. Somehow even those moments shaped me
into the man I'm sitting here now, breathing in the
light of day. It all adds up. Every wrong term
was a nudge, Every heartbreak was a lesson. Every ending
brought me somewhere new. I finally understand everything really did

(03:28):
happen for a reason, maybe not the reasons I could
see at the time, but reasons that guided me to peace.
So I sit older, slower, softer, and unafraid. For the
first time in years, I felt completely beautifully. Okay, the

(03:53):
light is dimming now. I closed my eyes. I smile.
Whatever comes next, I'm ready.