The Light Between Oceans Monologues

A lighthouse keeper and his wife living off the coast of Western Australia raise a baby they rescue from a drifting rowing boat.

I'd promised I'd stay away from you, and I've stuck to my word. However hard that was for me. I'm gone now. Which is why you have this letter. And it brings me joy because it means that you came to find us. I never gave up hope that you would. Knowing you were safe and loved allowed us to live our lives away from you. I hope life has been kind to you. I hope that you can forgive me for keeping you. And for letting you go. Know that you have always been beloved. -addl lines

I can tell you lots about me. My mom taught me the piano.

Not that well. My brothers used to tease me awfully when I played. I lost both of them - in the War. Just must be so confusing for my parents. I mean, if a wife loses a husband she becomes a widow, but if a parent loses a child there's no special label for it. You're still a mother or father. Even if you no longer have a child. Sometimes I wonder, if I'm still technically a sister now when my brothers are gone.

So if I can't talk about the past, am I allowed to talk about the future?

Tom, when I first saw you, I felt like I knew you, and I couldn't stop seeing my life with you; and building a family together. One that isn't stuck in the pain of the past. It's very pretty. And so, if you're asking me if my proposition still stands... then my answer is yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes.