After spending the weekend enjoying some time at home with just Kara and their new dog, Lena was hesitant to return to work, fearing that leaving a new puppy alone in the penthouse would end in disaster. Kara offered to take a few days off, but Lena wouldn't hear of it: Kara had spent her time over the weekend working on the article to accompany the interview she had done days before. Kara would wait until Lena had fallen asleep and would sneak into the office or the kitchen and work on her article, all the while assuming Lena had slept through her leaving the bedroom. What Kara never seemed to notice was that Lena woke up almost instantly when the hero left the room. Before Elsa came to live with them, just the hero's body heat not being near Lena would make her realize Kara was not there. Now that the puppy was in the house, Kara leaving the room was even more apparent because no matter how hard Kara tried to get the dog to stay in bed with Lena, she followed Kara out of the room every night during the weekend. Lena always tried to go back to sleep, but she would always quickly slip out of bed and go looking for Kara. One night she found her in the kitchen, the other she found her in the office. In either position, Elsa was curled up at Kara's feet, usually laying directly on top of them, leaving Kara to type feverishly as she went back and forth between her notes and audio recordings. Lena never called attention to herself and either Kara was too focused to notice Lena's heartbeat or she simply didn't call attention to the CEO, but in any case, she never looked up from her work. A few hours later, Lena would feel Kara crawl back into bed, immediately wrapping her arms around Lena and pulling her close, leaving the dog to settle at their feet. Lena knew that Kara had pressure to have her work done and submitted by Sunday at midnight so that CatCo could run the interview and article with the next edition that was being printed Thursday night in an effort for it to be out Friday.
All that to say, Kara had been busting her ass to get the work done and she was needed at the office to handle things going to print, the release etc. Lena thought about it for a while and ultimately decided that Elsa would simply come to the office with her. Lena figured what good was it being the boss if you couldn't do as you pleased with what you did within your office. Having the puppy around would allow Lena to have a ready excuse to get out of her office several times a day, something Kara always worried about. Lena also felt better knowing that she would have some company in her office on days she worked late. Monday morning found both women leaving the penthouse early: Kara trying to get in early to begin handling things around the article and Lena wanting to get the dog settled before her meeting at 9am. Once at the office, Lena set up Elsa's dog bed underneath her desk since that seemed to be the dog's preferred spot when she sat with Kara. With the dog's food and water tucked in the corner of her office, Lena set about preparing for her meeting, finding it rather pleasant to feel the warmth and weight of the puppy who was somehow laying across Lena's feet while keeping some of her body on the soft bed. Roughly 30 minutes before her meeting, Lena's assistant knocked on her door, temporarily snapping the CEO out of her focus.
Jess entered the room and noticed the dog under the desk almost immediately, "Good morning Ms. Luthor. Did we hire a new employee?" Lena looked down at her feet to see Elsa had perked up when someone new came in and she seemed interested in investigating, though she stayed with Lena, not quite brave enough to meet a new person.
"L Corp is a growing business Jess, I have to constantly hire new employees. I think this one will fit in quite nicely here in the office with us, don't you think? What with how often we have safety issues, I can never have too large of a security team." Lena smiled and leaned down to scratch Elsa's ear, something that caused the puppy to sit up and want more attention.
"Looks like she is already pretty happy. Well, I will let you get back to talking things over with your new security detail, but you had asked for the advanced print of the CatCo publication and they delivered it as I was walking in the door." Jess handed the papers, along with some other things Lena always asked for to her boss, adding a gentle tap on the top of the pile of papers.
"Full disclosure, Ms. Luthor. I read the article that Ms. Danvers wrote, which is why I assume you asked for the advanced copy." Lena cocked her eyebrow in her signature style, but smiled, "and, what did you think?"
"I mean this sincerely Ms. Luthor, I am not just saying it because you are my boss. If Ms. Danvers doesn't win another Pulitzer for this piece, we should all give up on journalism, as a whole, because it just doesn't get better than this. This kind of work is what that award was meant to honor and celebrate." Lena smiled as she put the advance print on her desk.
"She worked so hard this weekend on it so that it would make this publication and not have to wait for the next one. I asked her if I could read it and she said not till it was done, so I asked her if I got the early copy could I read it and that she agreed to. She's isn't usually this secretive about her work."
"If I may, Ms. Luthor, I think it will be worth the wait. It's a bit of a departure from Ms. Danvers' usual work." Lena had to smile a little at how cautious Jess was about talking about Kara.
"Jess, we've covered this before and I know for a fact Kara told you to drop the Ms. Danvers thing and use her name. Hell, I've begged you to use my first name and you have worked for me for long enough to know that I mean it." The assistant blushed and smiled, "feels a bit foreign Ms. Luthor." Lena reached into her purse and found what she was looking for, handing it out for Jess to take.
"Well, either you call me Lena or I will simply see if someone else would like this invitation to our wedding." Lena winked at the other woman who all but lunged for the envelope. Jess beamed as she opened it.
"You didn't have to invite me Lena." Lena laughed, "so it took me getting married to get you to use my name, interesting. And you are correct, I didn't have to, I wanted to. You have proven yourself to be both good at your job and loyal to me, which let's be honest, I am not used to someone being both of those things. Kara and I want the ceremony small since I have no family to speak of and her circle of friends and family is strong, but not exactly large. Plus, if the press catches wind of this, we'll never get married without a camera being shoved in our face every 30 feet."
"Well, in that case I would be very happy to attend." Lena smiled, "good, we will let people know the location closer to the date. For safety reasons. we didn't put it on the invite, just the day. Travel to the location will be provided so honestly, just show up in some kind outfit you don't mind dancing in and don't worry about the details."
"If I may Lena?" Lena nodded her head encouraging Jess to continue, "someone would have to be rather stupid or suicidal to disrupt a wedding being attended by the Girl of Steel." Lena's pupils dilated and she did absolutely nothing to hide her surprise response.
"What makes you think Supergirl will be at my wedding?" Jess smirked, "oh, are we pretending I don't know still? I can do that, but in case you ever want to drop the act, well, you know where my desk is." Lena hit a button on her computer that closed the door to her office and sealed it, something Kara insisted on when Lena mentioned not always being able to reach her panic room when things happened at the office.
"Jess, it is very important that you…" Jess waved her hand in front of Lena, "message received Lena, trust me. I like Kara very much, she has always been very kind to me, kinder than most people ever are. Maybe that's because of her past being an assistant to Cat Grant and knowing what it is like working for a powerful woman or maybe she is just a nice person to her core. Either way, I have no interest in causing her stress or harm and since she cares very much about Supergirl, I see no reason to worry about it further. For what it is worth, I am more interested in being friends with Kara Danvers. No offense to National City's hero."
Lena was touched, though not surprised, "it is a big thing for my wife to be seen as she is Jess."
Jess nodded, "as I said Lena, Kara is always and has always been kinder to me than most people. I firmly believe that part of that comes from knowing all too well what it is like to be the type of woman that the world forgets about. Kara never forgets about anyone, it is the very least I can do to return the kindness and never see her as anything less than she is." Lena was a little stunned, not because she didn't know Jess was bright or articulate, but because she was always surprised when other people saw Kara in the same way she did. During this exchange, Elsa had trotted over to Jess and had sat down, waiting for attention from the other woman. Lena watched as Jess knelt down and happily offered the dog attention, finally seeing the dog's eyes and laughing as she played with her.
"And here we have evidence that Lena Luthor can't say no to blue eyes. You better hope your kids don't have Kara's eyes or you are in deep trouble." Lena felt a surge in her heart when Jess mentioned children, not realizing until that moment just how badly she would like to have at least one child that had Kara's eyes, or any part of her wife. She was shaken from her thoughts when Jess stood up and pointed to the door.
"I should get back to my desk, your 9am should be here shortly. Conference room?" Lena hit the button on her computer again and nodded. Jess left the room and after organizing her paperwork Lena got up from her desk and headed toward the conference room. Before she left her office, Lena pointed to the bed under her desk, "you wait here, in your bed." Elsa looked at Lena with a bright smile and seemed content to just sit there. Lena shook her head and tried to remember the things Kara had told her about giving a dog commands. She pointed again to the spot and in more commanding tone said, "bed". The puppy trotted over to her bed under the desk and settled into it, still grinning like Lena had given her something she wanted.
"Good girl." Lena left the room and was surprised when the dog didn't follow her. Lena asked Jess to check on the dog every now and then to makes sure she wasn't destroying the office. After her morning meetings and conference calls, Lena returned to her office and was again surprised to find her dog fast asleep on her bed underneath the desk. Lena put her things down and went over to the food dish she brought in the office. This of course caught the puppy's attention and she went to see what Lena was doing, "you were so good when I was in my meetings, but I bet you are hungry huh? Let's get you some lunch and go outside ok?" The puppy shifted on her feet, almost vibrating as she watched Lena pour out food. Lena thought it was adorable how excited the dog got and how hard she tried to contain herself. Lena repeated the steps that she and Kara had been using when feeding Elsa at home. When the dog was given the all clear to eat she made quick work of her food and had a healthy drink from her water dish. Lena then quickly put on her leash and the two of them headed toward the elevator.
"Jess, I'm going to take Elsa for a quick walk and let her be outside for a bit. I don't expect Kara because this week is so busy at CatCo, so could you put in an order for lunch and just have it delivered ASAP. I'll eat when I get back." Jess set about putting in Lena's order while Lena managed to get out of the office for a few minutes, both for her and Elsa's benefit. Lena had been right, in that Kara was buried under a mountain of work and barely managed to eat something at her desk, let alone leave and join Lena for lunch. Lena ate while on conference calls and when the last one ended, she told Jess to hold her calls for a while. She then grabbed Kara's article and went over to the couch, all the while being followed by Elsa who waited for Lena to sit down before sitting at Lena's feet and looking pitiful.
"You know I already let you on the bed at home, I shouldn't let you get up on this piece of furniture too." Lena watched the puppy's face fall and soon she was looking at those blue eyes as they pretended to be sad and beg for permission to join Lena on the couch. Lena sighed, "I have to learn to say no to those eyes, but come on." Within a second the puppy had joined Lena on the couch and had curled into her side, happy to be close to her as she worked. Lena thumbed through the other articles and noticed the interview the preceded Kara's article. Lena told herself she would read that portion later, otherwise she would just be a mess of tears in her office. She focused on Kara's article that explained the timeline of the interview as it matched to that of history: explaining when this survivor had experienced different things and how that lined up with other events at the time. Lena got to the last section of the article and it was here that she saw exactly what Jess meant when she insisted that Kara deserved another Pulitzer.
"In modern times, we have the awesome privilege of having at our fingertips the stories of Holocaust survivors, much like the one shared earlier in this interview. And while these testimonies are often difficult to read, as they force us to imagine a time when our fellow man was forced to endure an unprecedented evil, it is still our obligation to bear witness to these stories and to carry them forward with us. In his heartbreaking account of surviving the Holocaust, Elie Wiesel says it simply, 'For the survivor who chooses to testify, it is clear: his duty is to bear witness for the dead and for the living. He has no right to deprive future generations of a past that belongs to our collective memory. To forget would be not only dangerous but offensive; to forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.' Yes, these stories are tragic, heartbreaking and often leave us with questions that have no satisfactory answers, but the fact remains, it is our duty to bear that perceived burden or sadness and discomfort and to share it with generations yet to be.
In a time before many of us were likely born, the world made a choice to ignore the suffering of millions of people when these crimes took place and in what I can only describe as our penance, our ancestors left us the inheritance of remembering them and their stories forever. It is, quite literally the very least we could do. We cannot bring these innocent souls back. We cannot rebuild families torn apart by ignorance, hatred, war, greed and power. We cannot shrug our shoulders and claim that none of us were there when it happened, therefore, we should not be the responsible party. To the people who believe the last statement, answer me this: if not us then who? We cannot point the finger at ghosts of leaders long since dead and say, 'blame them not us'. We may not have been alive during this time and even if we were, maybe there was nothing we could do. All the more reason to not thumb our noses at the chance to do something about it now. And if you still wish to deny that this is your burden to carry: I understand, but let me offer you this question to think over. Anne Frank's diary is required reading for most American children by the time they reach the 8th grade. The words of this amazing girl has been held up as a prime example of exactly how hard we failed to stop an evil from ravaging the most innocent among us. Adults put the burden on the words of a child to teach us about this dark moment in history. So, if you are mad because you do not feel as though you should be responsible for remembering this part of history, ask yourselves this: why then are you comfortable placing the awesome burden of this dark truth on the unmarked grave of a child who's life was ended before it ever began?
For many people reading this, you might be confused because of how I am writing this piece. It is not the usual tone I write with and the forcefulness of my words is, if anything, out of character. For obvious reasons, this tone is warranted given the topic of this interview and article, so while it may be out of character, I assure you, it is just as genuine as any other piece I have written. During my day spent with the amazing woman interviewed for this piece, I was gifted with something that few people ever have the chance to do: I was able to speak with someone who survived the hell of concentration camps and despite losing everything she had ever known, had not abandoned hope that life could still be beautiful and that humanity was not so lost it could never be redeemed. During our day together, Victoria, as she insisted I call her, asked me questions about my work, why I was interested in doing this piece, why I wanted it to be in person etc? I shared with her my reasons for all of it, admitting that I felt terrible sharing that I had experienced a significant loss as a child and it took a long time and a lot of people loving me to bring me to a place where I believed that good things far outweigh the bad in life. Her face softened and she asked me why I felt terrible for sharing that with her. I explained that while my loss was painful and profound, it wasn't anything compared to the trauma she and her family experienced when she was a young girl. She shook her head, telling me that she never understood the need of people to compare suffering as though there was a price handed out for the most painful experience. She pointed out, using the words of Alexander Dumas, that only a person who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss.
With her permission, I shared a snapshot of my story. I told her about my parents both dying in a fire when I was 13, finding myself suddenly in a stranger's home and being told these people were now the closest thing I had to family. I told her about my sister who upon meeting me told me that she did not 'need a sister'. I told her about my foster parents who tried so hard to help a kid, who was not theirs by blood, settle into a new home after watching her own go up in flames, carrying her family with it. Of course, then I told her about how my sister, who you'll remember had told me she had no use for me, would let me sleep her bed when I had nightmares. I told her about the times we would break the rules and try to cover for each other only to have my sister catch the blame for us both, something she always handled with a level of maturity I always marveled at. And finally, I told her about how my sister promised me at age 13 that she would makes my nightmares go away, and how every day since then, she has made good on that promise: not once have my nightmares consumed me and I can only assume it is because they knew better than to test my sister's love for me. Victoria smiled as I shared my brief story with her, pointing out that the single most powerful thing that allows those ravaged by trauma to move forward is the love of those who saw them as whole person when they were in fact, incredibly broken. With this in mind: to my sister who didn't 'need' me, thank you for showing up when I needed you.
As our time together was coming to a close, Victoria spoke more like she was having a heart to heart conversation with someone she cared for instead of giving an interview with a journalist. She shared photos from the day the concentration camp she had been held in was liberated, photos from many years later when she married followed closely by several pictures of her with her children, then the photos of her grandchildren. In time, she explained that she always insisted on taking more photos than maybe she needed during any happy event or celebration, offering a somber explanation, 'I left so many friends and most of my family behind when I left that place and the only way I could feel as though I had not abandoned them there was to take photos of the things they never got the chance to see and experience.' Victoria went on to acknowledge that many people she knew who managed to survive the camp, felt similarly: they were all tasked with living such a profoundly lovely life that it would fill the void left in the world by their friends and family who never got the chance. These people who lived through an evil most of us cannot even imagine, challenge themselves to live multiples lives, to be living monuments for the people who were lost. If these survivors could shoulder the burden of living life for millions of people who died having never re-experienced the joy of freedom, then it is not an impossible task for the rest of us to accept the responsibly and burden of remembering this time and never allowing it to be lost to the ages. We have the watch now and it is our responsibility to carry these stories forward, never allowing the truth to be extinguished.
We can. We will. We must.
Just as I was preparing to leave the space we had been occupying all day, Victoria reached out and asked for my hand. As she held it, she asked me if I ever was given the chance to give my parents a proper burial after the died in the fire. I told her no: I was placed with my family soon after their deaths and as a teenager I did not have the resources to request they been given a proper final resting place. I also gently pointed out to her that the fire was so absolute that there was nothing for me to have actually buried except for their ashes. She nodded her head and offered me a sad smile, telling me that most of her friends and family had been buried in mass graves at the camp and that given the circumstances, the timing and her age when they died, she also was not given the chance to bury her parents until she was a parent herself. I am not ashamed to say that I had no response to that other than to cry upon hearing this woman admit that she too was robbed of a chance to mourn and bury her parents: a responsibility that no child wants and yet a level of closure that every child deserves. I tried, unsuccessfully, to hide my tears and was lovingly scolded for doing so. Victoria was quiet for a moment before she tapped my hand, getting my attention as she asked me, 'the fire your parents died in, you saw it?'
I nodded, explaining that my parents died making sure I was safe from the fire.
She then told me that her parents both died in the gas chambers, but at separate times. 'The men were kept separate from the women and children my age were separated from their parents, so while I did not watch them march to their deaths, I felt the ache in my heart when they both left this world as smoke'. I opened my mouth to apologize, for what, I still am not sure, but I never got the chance because Victoria continued.
'My parents left this world as smoke and I watched them leave. Your parents left this world as smoke and you watched them leave. Perhaps though, we can think of it this way: maybe the people who gave us life found each other and offered each other a sense of peace despite the violent way they left this world. Maybe my parents knew that your parents left behind a special child, a little girl who would be able to hear their child's story and offer her a dignified way of sharing it, of reclaiming the voice of her family that had been silenced for generations. I choose to see this as our parents, all four of them, deciding to bring two little girls, born generations apart, together, giving them both a chance to remember their parents as people, not as smoke.'
My response to this stunningly beautiful way of thinking about how Victoria and I had come to this place and time left me speechless and with more tears in my eyes than before. I nodded my head furiously and fumbled with my glasses, not knowing what else to do with my shaking hands. She smiled, brushing a few tears from her own eyes. As I walk Victoria and her granddaughter to their car she is quiet and for perhaps the first time in my life, I am at a true loss for words. I felt like if I spoke right then, I would ruin the image she painted and I could not bring myself to do that. I offered her granddaughter a hug before she climbed into the driver's seat, then I turned back to Victoria. I managed to thank her for her time, her openness and her willingness to share difficult stories as well as ones of hope. She hugged me tightly and as she pulled away and she held on to me, not yet letting go of my arms. She thanked me profusely and before I could assure her that it was an honor I won't ever forget she looked me directly in the eyes and told me something I was not prepared to hear and that will forever be cemented in my memory.
'For many years, I was angry at the people who took my parents from me, then I was mad at my parents for leaving. I spent years trying to forgive them for dying, strange as it may sound. At a certain point, I just assumed that I would never be able to forgive them for dying, for leaving me. Then I met you and this ability to tell my story to someone other than my family seems to have been what I needed all these years. So, thank you Kara, because I never thought I'd be able to forgive them, and today, that is exactly what I have done.' This time I didn't even try to respond: there is nothing you can say when someone tells you this. I hugged her again, tighter this time, trying to keep the more intense tears for another time. As she hugged me back, she whispered in my ear, 'it is ok to forgive them Kara, it's ok to forgive yourself too'.
That did it.
Holding back the tears was no longer possible and honestly, if I had, I don't know how I would've felt about it. Instead, I cried. I cried in the arms of a woman who has every right to never forgive anyone for anything and yet here she was, giving me permission to forgive my parents for dying and to forgive myself for the responsibility I had unconsciously carried with me since the day they died. I waved goodbye to them and watched their car leave the parking garage and as soon as it was out of sight I quickly got into my car and lost it. I don't know exactly how long I cried for, but when I ran out of tears I felt different. Tired for sure, but more than that I felt, different. Later that night, as I laid in bed, I looked at my girlfriend asleep next to me and our dog all but pushing her off the bed and stealing her spot. I enjoyed the love and warmth I felt in my home, shut my eyes and just as I was about to fall asleep it hit me. I felt different for a reason. I had finally forgiven my parents.
I forgave my parents when a perfect stranger told me it was ok to do so.
I still stand by what I said in the beginning of this article. It is our collective responsibility to remember this moment from history and tell it to new generations, least they ever attempt to repeat our mistake. However, in the midst of all the hard work we have laid out before us in this regard, I offer each and every one of you this: it is ok to forgive yourself, so long as you remember, in the end, the survivor gets to tell the story."
Lena let her wrist go slack and the magazine copy fell in her lap. Lena stopped crying to brush the tears away and was by now just full on crying. This of course caused distress for the puppy in her lap who was trying to refocus her owner and soothe this pain. Lena finally wrapped her arms around the puppy and was glad to have to connection. She focused on Elsa's fur and petting her, anything to ground her in this moment. When the intense tears had faded, Lena was quiet and was still snuggling with the dog when Jess appeared in the doorway.
"I told you it was different than what she usually writes Lena. Are you alright?" Lena shrugged her shoulders, "I don't honestly know. Kara, does not like talking about this topic much for obvious reasons. Then to have her talk about her parents and blaming herself for things. I just…I wish this was something I could fix and I can't."
Jess nodded, "you can, however, go home for the day."
"I have a 3pm." Jess shook her head, "not anymore you don't I canceled it at 11am. I knew you wouldn't be ok after you read the article." Lena opened her mouth to argue and Jess again waved her hand, "Lena save it. You just read a really heavy things that the woman you love more than anything wrote, knowing that she was hurting while she wrote it. It's beautiful Lena and the interview is stunning. Kara did this beautifully, but that doesn't mean it isn't hard to read those things and know that you wife is holding pain in her heart cuz she thinks on some level she deserve it. So, please, just go home." Lena would've argued, but she didn't. Instead she nodded, allowing Jess to leave the room as she gathered her things to go home. Elsa waited on the couch until Lena called her to her so she could get her leash on.
"Hey pretty girl, you ready to go home?" The puppy quickly followed Lena out into the area near Jess' desk.
"I'll be in around 8am tomorrow ok Jess, then I can finish things before my 9am."
"Goodnight Lena. Night Elsa." The puppy barked and Lena had to laugh: of course her dog would have a personality that rivaled Kara's sun shine demeanor.
