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17 July 2007 @ 03:55 pm
Theatrical Muse: Week 186: Question 186  
Name: Dr. Sid Hammerback

Fandom: CSI: New York

Word Count: 992


Religion.


I believe in God. I believe in having faith, in praying, in believing, in something. People, I myself need to have something to hold onto when times get tough, and during other circumstances, when they are just happy, content. I have faith. I have religion, I have faith, I have a God, and, maybe, that is what is important when you speak about matters such as this, in relation to me. I was born and raised as a Christian, if that helps. Specifics, ah, if you want specifics, that can come later.

Religion to me is faith, and faith, in that circumstance, is religion. Belief is intermingled, is mixed, into that, so much so that these three, are very much, one. It is not so much that I am, extremely religious, to the point of exposing quotations, but, instead, adherent, to my religion, and many of the ideas that it holds and contains. Morals, ideas, concepts, beliefs, things like that, I get them.

The man stood at doorway leading into the church, leaning slightly against the frame of the door. He watched as the other man knelt on the kneeler near the alter, took off his glasses, closed his eyes, put his hands together, and prayed. Of course, Mac didn’t know, whether Sid had closed his eyes, but he just assumed he had. Watching the Medical Examiner’s back, he stood, silently, only to move, twisting his head, when a woman with a whimpering infant came up next to him. She too saw the other man, deep in his prayers, and looked to him, questioning why he stood there, and not next to the other person. She stood there for a moment, next to him, and then walked away, supposedly to take a walk and comfort her now bawling baby. The Detective watched on, continuing to be silent, still, just watching and waiting for his friend to finish, whatever he needed to do. Then, they would get coffee, and settle down for a chat, before returning to work after their lunch break. It was one of the few that week, they had spent out of the building, or not on location at a crime scene. It was a nice moment, a lovely, silent, quiet one, nestled perfectly into the bustling city that surrounded them. The thing about Sid was, that, most of the time, he knew what he needed to do to make himself better. Even if he got lost, he’d still find some way to pull through. It was an admirable quality that the Detective possessed also.

Religion is about gentleness, understanding. Prayer, is not an absolute answer, it is an action, a way of, letting things out, of giving words, thankfulness, to something greater. Prayer is a way of preparing, for the life, the day, night, evening, afternoon, ahead.

As Sid stepped into the elevator, he saw a flash of jackets pants and smart shoes out of the corner of his eyes, and stuck out his hand to stop the door from closing. Holding it open until Stella stepped inside, he smiled at her, his teeth bearing themselves in a warm welcome, as she thanked him with an out of breath nod. She shied away from his blue eyes as she caught her breath, inhaling, and taking one deep breath inwards. He stared, confused, momentarily, as she glanced at him, and then away, before, once more, turning to his eyes and meeting his gaze completely. It was almost ghostly, he experience between them, as if, they were both, aware of each other, but, wary, at the same time. It was as if, they themselves were real, but the person, standing across from them, wasn’t exactly, there, or, all there. Just as the elevator stopped at their floor, just, before the doors open, the man stepped forward, and gave the woman a quick peck on the cheek. The doors opened, and he stepped away.

“Good morning, Stella.” the Medical Examiner said, as he stepped out of the elevator first, and hurried away, his cheeks flushes with an unusual, bright, form of embarrassment.


I find religion hard to talk about sometimes. This is one of those times, so, instead, I shall talk about love. Love, is not just about the aesthetic curves and whims of the body. It is about loving someone, so much so, that you can’t imagine life without them, ever. It is, about those slight moments, those nice, lovely nuances, and those occasions, where the very air in your lungs, your breath, is taken away from you, because your companion, your partner, is so very lovely. It’s not, when everything is boiled down, about procreation, about the continuation of the human race. No, that’s, not, what love is. That is simple, basic, rudimentary reproduction and passing on of the genes. Love is different to that. It’s about appreciating the fact that, although you’re perfect for someone, they’ll still probably criticise your driving every now and then, and forget what you like on your toast. It’s about forgiving those minor misgivings, and focusing on the greater feeling of utter and blessed triumph, because you recognise that emotion as more valuable. And hand, in hand, ultimately, it is about being with someone you love, and someone that, you know you love, and who loves you, in return. If it is never about anything else, which certainly isn’t a true fact, then it is about utter and devoted companionship, in whatever form that companionship chooses to take.

In the end, love, is all about love. Religion, is all about religion. Each has its triumphs and its downfalls, and, ultimately, imposes something dear and lasting on the person who is involved in it, and who is affected by it. You can’t deny love, or religion, you can’t just banish it away once you have had it. Essentially, while you may be able to forget love, and religion, you can never, completely, forget, either one.
 
 
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