Grief
Time stole the memories from his head
Like ripe plums, one by one they were plucked away
Until he was a no longer complete
A nameless man with two options
Surrender or fight
And so he fought.
He rebelled against the absolute
It’s funny how power can be found in the places you least expect it
A frail old man waging a war
Everyday into the unknown
He didn’t believe in god anymore
Because what kind of god would allow this suffering
What kind of god would allow a monster into his skull
To gnaw at his cerebral
What god?!
And yet he prayed every night
He was angry
No
Frustrated
More then that sad
Confused?
Was there a difference between being determined or just desperate?
He struggled, scuffled, and fought
He fought because he was alive
But all battles end
And not everyone wins
He finally pegged down the emotion he hadn't been able to quite figure out
Loneliness
He was lonely
In his life (not that he remembered but) he had been an artist, a writer
And so when the end of the world came
He tore it down and wrote his own ending
He gave one last battle cry
but there was no one there to hear
At home alone sat an estranged son
He hadn’t heard from his father in years
Hadn’t thought of him in a long time
So to hear about his father’s passing basically in the form of a funeral invite…
Well he felt so much and nothing all at once
Anger
No
Frustration
More than that sadness
Confusion?
Was there a difference between determination or just desperation.
Along with the invitation came a letter
This bastard waited until he was dead to…
To what?
Apologize?
Make sure he got the final word?
He didn’t know
And he didn’t want to know
So the letter sat for years
Collecting dust
Unopened
But he could never quite throw it away
It was only when the son had grey hair
In a hospital bed that he finally found he was ready to see what his father had to say
He’d lost his wife a few years ago and the kids only really visited at Christmas time
His father had been about this age when he passed.
He finally pegged down the emotion he couldn’t quite figure out all those years ago
Loneliness
He was lonely
Opening the envelope the now elderly man read the messy writing
It was short but it was enough
The son read it again and again
Until he couldn’t see through the blur or tears
“Jason, I don’t know much of anything now a days.
In fact I remember only one thing.
Your name
I don’t know who you are
But I know I love you”
And so he did the only thing he could
He cried out
But there was no one there to hear