They'd been up to the grave on several occasions, him and Jill, but it wasn't something he wished to do on a regular basis for fear on making the pain worse. It was dark and Gordon was alone, not long having finished work. Jill was at home with Tom and Katie but something hadn't driven Gordon to visit their son's grave on the way back from work. . He parked the car in the lane a short distance from the grave yard and made his way to where Jonathon had been laid to rest. He didn't know what the visit was meant to do for him but he'd felt a sudden urge to be close to his son.
He walked up the pebbled footpath, his shoes crunching amongst the stones in the silence of the evening. And out of curiosity he read several of the headstones on passing 'George Walker, 83 years old.' 'Tom Snoop, aged 65' 'Mary Webb, Aged 50' but no children. The gravestone he visited was different 'Jonathon Ormerod, Aged one day. Taken too soon.'
'It wasn't even one day though was it son, just half an hour. That's not a life at all...' Spoke Gordon, breaking the silence. It was the first time he'd spoken at the graveside. 'So I'm guessing this is what your mum does when she comes here... I can't blame her; she's lost so much more than me. And yes I want to move on from it all but I don't want to forget you, but how can I talk to her about it? How can I make her relive it all...? There's so much I want to tell her; how proud I am of her, how I really feel but I can't. I know we only had such a short time with each other Jonathon, but I miss you. We had nine months of preparation up to your birth, all ruined in a split second. Does this pain ever get easier? I suppose only time will tell... Until next time son...' And he slowly walked backwards away from the grave, until at a suitable distance he turned and walked back to his car. A weight lifted off his shoulders but the agony still the same. A grieving father.