Month: January 2019

I stood over the stone and watched the raindrops explode off its crown. Waves thundered off the rocks below masking my silent sobs.

            Anyone watching would have thought me crazy as I tore at my shirt trying to rip the heart from my chest. With these two souls laid to rest beneath my feet it was of no use to me any longer, but no passerby would have known that. 

            They were another layer peeled back from my life. Aging me in the eyes of those I loved, bringing the mortality I always tried to ignore into clearer focus.

            I hadn’t been there at the end, had shirked my responsibilities as a member of their blood and avoided a final visit. I hadn’t known their end was coming, I was out trying to make my way in the world, but still, nothing is forever.

            I’d tried to live an invincible life, fearing nothing, trying everything. In each one of my crashes, they were there to pick me up and encourage me to try again. I had laughed in the face of their love more times than I could count and while I was gone they left.

            I raged against the dark clouds at the unfairness of it all. I wanted them back for one more day, one more minute, so I might tell them they had always been right, and to say a simple thank you.

            So I tore at my chest, for my heart was buried beneath the grass at my feet. Whatever was in my chest was a fraud.

            I looked at the rocks below their beautiful resting place and thought of what a betrayal it would be if I chased them.

            So I collapsed there on top of them, begging forgiveness, hoping the rain would wash away the pain.

            He never cried. He tried not to allow himself any emotion, but found he couldn’t stop the waves of sadness from washing over him. He ached.

            After he left, he had meant to send letters. Then he meant to email. Was determined to. Put it at the top of his priority list, and as with so much of what went to the top of the list, something else came along to move it down, so he’d pushed it away and allowed the old feeling of guilt to sit with him. The empty comfort left him safe, but hollow.

            Ma had encouraged him to send a quick email at Thanksgiving, said it might help boost her spirits if nothing else; treatment was taking a toll. 

            Again, intention, followed by delay led to guilt and no communication. What did you say? How did you make it sound right or convey the right feelings?

            When it turned out he would be following through on his promise and returning for the New Year, he wanted to email to let her know. Another visit was at the top of his list of things to do. He hadn’t.

            As the choir sang he thought of how much he would miss summer sunsets on the cottage’s front porch, her warm words and large heart. He was thankful he’d made the time to see her in the summer, but still wished he’d written; something as simple as ‘I’m thinking of you’ would have meant so much.

            His tears flowed as he added his voice to those around him. He had come back too late.