Father
Nancy
A whimpering infant creature
Weak
Sickly
Of strange countenance
Found
Above
Brought
Below
Placed
No
Received
Welcomed
By the Father
Into his arms
Into his care
Into his life
The little one
Accepted
Cherished
Lodged
In the Father’s heart
All warmth
Affection
Love
To supplant
A grim birthright
The wintry world
Of rags
Trash
Abandonment
Father by name
By choice
And by nature
Tenderly
He nurtures
The baby
Patiently
He guides
The toddler
Intuitively
He values
The child
Perceptively
He respects
The adolescent
Devotedly
He honors
The adult
~
Beloved Father
You have
Given me life
More surely than if
I were
Of your body
What words
Can say
What my soul feels
What my heart knows
Of you
My Father
I am
Because of you
A man
The man
My Catherine loves
Life is you, H
Victors
Nancy
Beginnings
Can be troublesome
A wounded invader
Feared
Healed
His doctor’s ready compassion
Restrained
Tell her nothing
Get her out
Imagine
His horror
The consternation
Poor man
I will not be
Gotten out
Sent away
Forgotten
His dilemma
How to protect
His unique son
From faithless love
I sense
His distrust
Feel
His disapproval
Know
His disfavor
Yet love
Being stronger than all else
And loving as I do
With all that I am
His beautiful son
Not even
Father
Formidable adversary
To be sure will
Dissuade
Discourage
Defeat
The dream I
Defend
Protect
Nurture
That one day
One blessed
Miraculous day
I will dwell
Beloved
Within the heart of
His son
Perhaps a double miracle
Should the Father
Somehow
Someday
Actually
Approve
~
The war
Seen from now
No more than a skirmish
An eloquent misunderstanding
With victors two as
Respectfully
Affectionately
Genuinely
Father
Entrusts his son
To me
The wife
Proven worthy
The daughter
Devoted to him
Her father as well
And I know
My sweetest dream
Life
As one
With my eternal love
My Vincent
Eternal love, H
A BEGINNING AND AN ENDING
Nancy
Healer
You became
The Father
Founder
And heart
Of a family
Forming
Growing
Around
Within
Your care
Your wisdom
Below
Leadership
Governance
Shared
Yet
Your title
Bespeaks
Regard
Respect
Admiration
Appreciation
~
I loved you
Truly
From the beginning
Throughout all the years
Happiness
Should have been
Ours
Unfair judgments
From too many parts
Severed us
Or was it
Your integrity
My cowardice
Youth
Errs
Too easily
I let it happen
Did you
Was choice
Yours
I ran
You could not
Follow
I believe
You would
Had you been free
Perhaps
Above
The hunters
Below
Safety
Grace
In all forms
You made
A World
A home
Gave yourself
To the place
To the people
To Vincent
Anonymous
Forgotten
In later years
Safe
Yet
You did not
Search
To find me
Able
Why did I not
Seek
Find you
Until one week
Remained
These 7 days
Seven days
Time to create
A universe
Barely time
To love
Forever
your Margaret
He raised the paper to his lips and kissed it reverently. Settling gingerly onto the edge of her bed, he closed his eyes. The pain was getting worse…the loneliness was killing him.
He’d sent Vincent Above to visit Catherine, convincing his son with brave words and the request that he be left alone for a little while. For his part, Vincent had promised to return early.
He was a good son, Jacob acknowledged, in a moment of clear thinking. Devin was coming home as well…another good, if different, son of his.
We should have had sons, Margaret.
And daughters.
We should have had a lifetime making memories…. with years yet to come.
He glanced at her pillow and ran his hand lightly over its surface. He saw her there as she’d been at the end...peaceful, happy, grateful…her hand in his, safe and warm. But he hadn’t been able to keep her, to save her, and she’d passed on with his name and his kiss on her lips. He covered his eyes and sobbed.
Oh, Margaret,
I am… alone.
Gathering himself he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away the evidence of his breakdown. Mary might come looking for him, checking on him, and it wouldn’t do to upset her with a tear-streaked face.
Be at the threshold, smiling at me, when I turn, Margaret.
Tears blur my vision.
Come, sit beside me.
Read these, your words, aloud to me.
He stared at her writing, at the testament she’d left for him when she knew it was the end. He’d found it after they’d held the burial service, when he’d returned to this chamber, hoping so desperately that it had all been a horrible nightmare and he’d find her waiting for him. He wanted it to be a nightmare, wanted it so hard that he thought it must happen. Yet it did not.
Tell me your thoughts.
Let me hold you.
They’d spent every moment together, jealously guarded each of them, hoarded them, as if such care could make them last forever. He’d come to know her then, the Margaret she’d become over a lifetime of experiences, apart from him. And he’d shared himself…everything…he wanted to give her everything he was…but they needed life’s years to do that…years of life together. A sob, muffled, hurt his chest.
Take my hand and we will know this world.
It should have been ours.
She’d been so impressed with everything he’d shown her of the world Below, so gracious to everyone, so readily accepted by everyone. And Vincent, Vincent was her favorite. A small smile touched his lips at the thought. And Mouse…Margaret had been enthralled by Mouse!
Come back to me.
Let us cheat death as life so callously cheated us.
Stiffly he rose, leaning on his cane, preparing to leave the hallowed place, her place, always. Vincent would return soon. He would await him back in his own chamber. This one, Margaret’s, would hold her essence. He would visit with her here. Find her here…one day…waiting…and that day he would be with her into eternity.
All the empty years between…
And now…
How many hopeless, empty years before me…
I cannot bear it.
I cannot.
“Father.” It was Catherine’s gentle voice, her arm around his shoulder, caring and warm.
“Come. Let us help you,” Vincent said, leading him and Catherine out of the chamber.
“We’ll have some tea,” Catherine suggested. “You don’t need to grieve alone. We’d like to know her better…will you tell us about Margaret?”
When they eventually finished talking that night he was feeling a little less alone. He rose from his chair with Vincent’s help. Catherine had begun to gather their cups.
“There is barely enough time in one’s life to love well, Vincent. Don’t wait too long,” he whispered, and turned slowly toward his sleeping chamber.
barely time, H