I could laugh so lightly, and the sound of my giggles surprised me. With a simple smile, I felt within my heart a breaking comparable only to the splintering break of a beaver’s dam. The effect was something similar with tears climbing violently down my face. Arms as strong as iron and as pallid as the puffs of heaven that covered the sun suddenly surrounded me in a loving embrace. The familiar hum of his voice quieted my sobs, though his chest began to heave with mine. My thought process ceased all logic as I began to compose myself. The chain of unfocused assumptions flying through my mind hurt nearly as much as the lack of air in my lungs. With another heaving gasp, I said the dreaded word: “Dead.”
It did not affect me the way I had thought it would. I’d prepared myself, or so I’d thought, to hear the word. I had practiced y reaction with meticulous precision, focusing on my composure. But all was lost, now. All was lost, and now there was an ache in my heart that screamed for some release. I had made the mistake of assuming that he would die quietly, like any old man should. I’d assumed he was sure of his faith, and that God could not punish him so harshly as to take him unwillingly. I had envisioned a soft caress as He carried my dear, sweet father lovingly up to heaven, and yet it didn’t happen that way.
Last night his words betrayed him. In a feverish rant, he had said, “He’ll tell me no,” and I knew what he meant.
The very moment he’d let the words escape his dried lips, I could picture it in my mind. There was my grey haired relation staring up at what I imagined God to be. The most vibrant, beautiful, and intimidating light shown down on my father’s shameful face.
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Submission Name: Dead
