Change

Change in your pocket. Change your mind or change your clothes. Most women dread “The Change”. Changing your address is one of the biggest decisions you’ll make. Your body changes after you have children. But the form of change (or exchange) that sends a shiver down my spine is the Changeling.

Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.
(Yeats)

One night you put your child to bed and the next morning you wake them up for school and they are someone else. Its is just a little too real to be scoffed at. We’ve all gone into their rooms late at night to watch them breathe. We’ve measured the rise and fall of their chests. We’ve marked the sight of their angelic sleeping faces on our memory. Contrasting their sleeping face to their awake, mobile, sometimes angry faces. We’ve all wondered who that child was, sleeping there. It isn’t so far from reality that a faery would creep in and exchange their fey child for your blood and bone child. Walking away through the window and the lawn with your child’s hand in theirs

Perhaps we are not so simple to be fooled by a block of ice or a stick of wood in exchange for our child anymore but I believe that many of our children, our mother’s children, have heeded the siren call of the faeries and have went away to the waters and the wild and have left in their place a halfbreed troll who’s only way to survive in the land of humans is to feed their body with drugs.

Our drug addicted changelings keep fooling us. They seem like our child. When you look at them quick, through the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of the imposter. A double image that flashes on your eye then disappears. You are never quite sure of what you saw and then you look full on and you are deceived once again. The Changeling is good at disguising himself. They live on in your house, sucking the life from your soul until you wonder if you will die. But you don’t know what from.

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