An Older’s Tomorrow
Years after the break that broke
our father’s heart, he came back.
He hadn’t come to his senses as
much as he’d grown deathly sick,
some wasting disease contracted
in the country far away from us.
I’d buried our father in those saddest years, dug his grave all by myself. The servants were let go by then. I’d also buried my wife and our son. Only the wind and ghosts remained.
He said I didn’t know where else to go. I said Its right that you came home. So we attempted to bridge the time though we were older men by then. We hoped to find ourselves again as boys who were also once brothers. I cared for him like he prayed I would. He wondered whether this was out of duty or due to love. I said I cannot say. Such categories lose their meaning after so much is lost and poorly grieved. I told him I’m glad you came home. When he died I wrapped him in our father’s faded robe and buried him by the others out back beneath the oaks. I left the next day with my inheritance of memories and our father’s signet ring. I saw tomorrow from still a long way off.
I’d buried our father in those saddest years, dug his grave all by myself. The servants were let go by then. I’d also buried my wife and our son. Only the wind and ghosts remained.
He said I didn’t know where else to go. I said Its right that you came home. So we attempted to bridge the time though we were older men by then. We hoped to find ourselves again as boys who were also once brothers. I cared for him like he prayed I would. He wondered whether this was out of duty or due to love. I said I cannot say. Such categories lose their meaning after so much is lost and poorly grieved. I told him I’m glad you came home. When he died I wrapped him in our father’s faded robe and buried him by the others out back beneath the oaks. I left the next day with my inheritance of memories and our father’s signet ring. I saw tomorrow from still a long way off.
Wow and ouch and wow again.
Thank you, Patrick.
Oh, my. A reminder of hope in heartbreak. Thank you.
Hi, Beth. You are welcome.
Never too late with love…
Thanks, Gwen!
I just witnessed in real time a mother and father let their adopted daughter “go.” After years of living in the “crazy” and trying SO hard, they acted as the Father in Christ’s Luke story and let her go. Just as the Father did/does. Praying every day -no – minute, hour, – she will come home and say a final “yes” to her forever family. My prayer is that she will make her home coming while her parents, both humans, and the One Divine, are still alive and available to witness it. Also that her sisters have the strength of their parents, both human, and the One Divine, to handle the homecoming with grace if needed. . . Oh. That love. Such Love.
Thank you for sharing that story, Abby. I hope that too.
The story – a thousand yeses. But the cadence and rythmn are also beautiful. The prose is melodic and flowing, and striking because it is punctuated by the sparing dialogue between the brothers. Their words are so believable, minimalist, nothing but the essentials. So the cadence of the long – short – long – another thousand yeses.
Thank you, Leah.