Casey and Sam are fond of celebrating the New Year, but as I had to work yesterday, we did not stay up much past midnight on Sunday. In fact, we had a rather abrupt end to New Year’s Eve celebrations. As the clock struck midnight, I turned to Casey, expecting to kiss her. Instead, she just burst into tears. Not a very reassuring sight for a husband to see!
I was distraught, of course, to see her so upset. Still, I cannot say I was surprised. For Casey, the year of 1912 brings her worst nightmares to fruition. She has been on edge for months already, but when the year actually changed from 1911 to 1912, she reached a new depth of despair.
I do my best to reassure her, but the simple truth is that it is just not as real to me as it is to her. I truly believe everything she and Sam have told me about Titanic. I have done everything that Sam and I can think to do, to help the ship survive if she hits an iceberg. But the reality of it… well, I don’t know how to put it, exactly. I just know it’s more real to them. To me, it’s a story – a warning that something will go wrong, and a chance to prevent it. But it hasn’t happened yet, and like any prophecy, it’s possible that it will never come to pass. God knows, I take the warning seriously. But it’s still not real.
To Casey and Sam – it happened. They’ve seen the pictures, read the newspaper articles, even seen films of the actual ship in her bed at the bottom of the Atlantic. I believe that is what Casey sees when she thinks of Titanic. She doesn’t see Ship 400, growing grand in her slip at the yard. She sees the broken vessel, covered with sea plants and bottom-feeders, rusting through a haze of seawater.
What a curse this time travel is! A blessing – yes, and one I am grateful for. But a curse, nonetheless, that brings my wife such sorrow.