Across Time and Space
At last I found him sitting upon the grass near the rushing stream. I knew not why this surprised me, because it was a favorite spot of his. In his earlier days, he spent many hours outside exploring the flora and fauna. An extensive collection on these very subjects filled many a shelf in his library. But today, I knew the impetus, which drew him here, was that of a different nature, for she shared his interest too in the natural world. They had spent many hours together walking the grounds making observations or just talking. And in his later years, she was his eyes and would describe for him in greater detail what he could no longer see unaided due to his limited vision.
As I came up upon him at last and was about to speak my address, it was his voice which broke the silence. "Jane, is that you?" He smiled.
A refutation immediately formed upon my lips but did not reach utterance as tears filled my eyes and choked my throat.
"It is about time, my dearest. I thought you would never come. The day has grown cold," he continued.
"Come then, we should go inside," I answered unable to keep the strain and concern from my voice.
He blanched slightly at the timber of my voice as if noticing its difference, but then shrugging it off, he was not to be dissuaded. "No, not yet,' his voice trembled. "I don't want you to go just yet."
"I will not leave you," I affirmed.
"Yes," he muttered, a faraway look filling his troubled eyes as his mind traveled into the past. "You claimed that you would never leave me…That you would stay with me until the day you…." A tremor ran through him cutting off his last words.
Reaching towards him, I tried to steady him without much success. Then leaning his failing weight back towards the lawn behind him, I asked in alarm "Are you alright? Does something ail you?"
In hindsight, I realized how ridiculous these questions were, for he would never be alright. My eyes scanned his aging face as a heavy sadness weighed down my already grieving heart. His once dark hair was now mostly grey, and eyes, which were once brilliant, though not during my lifetime, lacked luster. "I will get someone to help you inside…" I started.
"No!" He vehemently cut in. The intensity in his voice overshadowing the shambles I now found him in. Then softening his forced tone, he breathed. "Just a few minutes longer. The sun, its heat feels pleasing against my face. I've been so cold, so cold since…" Once again, his speech faltered as he reached up towards me, his now shaking hand finding my hair. Caressing it with his icy fingertips as his thumb stroked my cheekbone then jaw line, he went on, "But then you've always brought the sun to me, Jane. Even on my darkest days, you have been my light…"
Taking his cold hands within my own, I attempted once again, "We really should be going inside. The day is almost done."
It was as though he did not hear me as he continued to go on. His voice now barely a rough whisper as he brought the hands, which held his own, towards his lips. "You will always be my light, Jane. So many dismissed you as a small, grey bird of little consequence, but I knew differently. I could see the scarlet plumage beneath your wings, carrying you upward, almost out of my sight," His voice cracked at these last words as tears filled his eyes while his lips lightly brushed against my hands.
"But my little bird has come back to me. I knew you would not abandon me in your heavenly pursuit. You knew my heart was breaking for want of you, and you've come back for me at last. So faithful, so constant, so true, my Jane…" He exhaled as a smile played on his lips. Slowly, I felt his prior claim upon my hands begin to loosen as the previous age and ruin, I saw upon his face, gave way to a look of pure joy.
I did not need to move my hand downward toward his chest to know it rose and fell no more. The stillness and peace of his countenance said it all.
A small chill passed through my frame. It had nothing to do with the impending approach of nightfall upon the landscape, but more with the presences I felt about me. I was not alone.
Three days earlier, I had received word that my mother had taken ill once again. The resilience of her health had never been quite the same since her flight upon the moors many long years before. Each passing fever or malaise taking more and more out of her with her advancing age. By the time I had returned home, her spirit had already fled, though my father had tried his best to keep it anchored to this earth. As in life and now in death, he was her constant companion- fussing over her, pampering her, and reciting to her from memory while she lay in her sick bed. He was a lost soul without her. A smile formed upon my lips at this thought though tears streaked down my face as I reclaimed one of his now lifeless hands within my own before uttering my agreement. "She has returned for you, Father. Be at peace once more."