Once more, I find myself writing about a cherished talent in the beginning of our new year.
Sir John Hurt was, as we all know, a huge pillar in the fandoms. We're all familiar with Hellboy, Alien, Doctor Who, Harry Potter - the list carries on. I only knew of him as the magical Ollivander, he who stood up to the Dark Arts and guided Harry to finish what was started a long time ago, and as the War Doctor, a heavily burdened man until his hearts reminded him why he was the Doctor. My heart, my soul, my everything hurts with absolute grief, and it was very hard to write this without wiping some tears away. His rolls have been imprinted on me, and are a large part of why I am the way I am today. It is always too soon to go, and I wish you hadn't gone yet.
It is not how one lives that they are defined, but rather how one loves that they are remembered.
We will miss you terribly, John.
Our wands are up, the TARDIS awaits you.
in the corners of the stars,
a timeline all its own
your name is not hidden but celebrated -
from the darkest galaxies you could find
to the brightest smiles of students
you were the Doctor:
you were the Doctor on the day it wasn't possible to get it right,
and it cost you more than your humanity
and all of your memories.
overflowing with the burden of pain and mercy -
to watch your world ignite,
to never feel whole again
and you counted those numbers for centuries.
yet, a choice was made ready:
a spark of magic was still left,
coalescing in your heart -
the deepest knowledge of magic's roots
lay in the great abyss of your mind
terrible and wondrous
safekeeping as much as you could
guiding the young to the gateways of their path
magnificent, even in the face of death incarnate -
I have heard tell that the TARDIS brings hope
its coughing and whirring likened to oxygen and a heartbeat
wherever it may come;
the wand chooses the wizard
and you were keeper of them all;
you were built in the fires of war,
tested by the mettle of humanity
welded by the iron that held our worlds together
now free flowing through a carven mold
do not forget us!
for we could never forget you -
Ollivander, keeper of secrets and gifter of experience
you were the first light of home
when we but tapped that brick in the wall,
found by counting three up and two across, thrice
War Doctor, survivor in peace and unsettled in heart
but lo, your hearts were changed when you looked upon yourself
and remembered why you were here,
why you are the healer and the storm
why your name was a pillar in the galaxies to come.
great men are forged in fire.
and it was our privilege to light the flame.
you were the beacon that led us all on a journey,
and I could never lose your memory of stalwart strength -
may the magic never die from your fingertips
your wisdom be entombed in the archives of our hearts
and Gallifrey be the light in your eyes.