Someone's Son Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Time has a way of healing all things. I read that somewhere. Where? I don't know. It's now been a few months since my dad left.

My mom has been so good, and so has Larry. He took me aside often and put his arm around my shoulders. And told me how much I meant to him. I wondered why he did that. Was he was sorry for me, or something. And so I asked, "Why?"

          "Because I feel a little sad for you," he answered honestly. "Your dad loved you so much, and yet he couldn't express himself. He could only show how much he cared by spending time with you."

          "Yes," I said. "And then he went away." There was no bitterness in my voice. It was so hard for me to understand.

          "And I don't understand, either," Larry said answering my thoughts.

          I use to think adults were so sure of themselves. Maybe I am growing up. Just maybe, they're as scared as I used to be. I'm not. Not anymore. Mom, Larry and Troy traveled with me to the same places my dad took me. And I shared all the information I could remember. Often my mom had tears in her eyes.

          Other times I would sit quietly at the table. And everyone would watch me closely. Not like I was a bug or something. More like adult wolves watching and guarding a cub so nothing would hurt him.

          Sometimes I even felt like Mowgli, protected by the wolf pack.

I could sense their fear. What would become of me? Would I change? Was I angry? Yes, I sure was. Who wouldn't be, if your father...dad...who was your pal just disappeared into thin air. Again. Where was Toronto anyways? Would I ever go there? Why didn't he stay? Would he ever want to see me again?

          Too many questions for a 13 year old boy, turning into a man. Yes, my birthday came and went and no dad. Not even a card. But I know he was thinking of me. A feeling inside my chest told me. He must have been too ashamed to phone or write. Or was he afraid?

          Mom and I took up where we left off. She was always around, as usual, for me. And Larry began to take me places again. Troy and I hung around.

          Sometimes I felt selfish, but mom knew my moods so well. She was able to see how much I needed her even though I was unable to properly express myself. One thing, mom didn't treat me like a child, anymore.

          Good ole mom. What would I have I have done without her? She kept my spirits up during the weeks that followed dad's disappearing act. Good meals. Good company. Goodnight hugs and even stories. She worked so hard to get me to laugh again. It took time. But it worked.

          And Larry. He was great, too. I realized how much he had missed having his own children around over the years. I had taken him for granted too much. Now I knew how much he cared for me. Here he was using up valuable energy to walk and hike with me. And the cool weather didn't help his aches and pains. I think he has arthritis.

          I remember my thirteenth birthday. It was really a very quiet day. Mom wisely thought it should be with special friends, who could help my spirits soar again.

          It was really a blast.

          Imagine, even my teacher Mrs. Simmons came. I used to think she was such a crabby thing. Was I wrong, or what?    There was mom and Larry. And Troy. And Melanie. Each person brought a nice gift and the cake was great. We had deer steak. Mom said it was called 'venison.'

          Larry had shot the deer.  Mom cooked it.

          Thirteen colored balloons helped cheer me up. I liked the idea of a small party. I really wasn't ready for my other school chums to be here shouting and carrying on. Mom was right. I still needed time to work things out.

          After I got out of the hospital I started to freak out about my dad. I thought he hated me. Why else would he leave like that?

          I'm thirteen now. A teenager. And I still look out my bedroom window pretending dad is coming one of these Saturdays. It's as if a tremendous weight is released from my shoulders when I fantasize. Even though I know in my heart it isn't possible. I still feel something special is going to happen one of these days. And the feeling became stronger with each passing hour.

          That hunch was still there a few days later.

          I could hardly wait for Saturday. Could it be that my father was going to contact me? Or even visit? Tension began to build in my body.

          Larry called Friday night and asked if I wanted to go for a drive. Mom came too. It all seemed so mysterious. We headed out to Portapique, past those white houses in Great Village. Past cows that munched quietly by the side of the road. Past Bass River and headed up the gravel road into the hills. Something was up. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. On the way a question someone asked kept turning around in my head, "Do you still love your dad?"

          It would have been tough to answer honestly a few weeks ago. But now the answer was easy, "Yes." And it didn't hurt to say it either, "I still love my dad."

          We drove slowly up the last hill on the way to Economy Lake. The steep climb was easy enough for the car. Then we stopped and got out. It was the same area where I had been lost. I wanted to close my eyes and forget those two nights and days I was lost, but couldn't. I was fascinated as Larry pointed out the journey he figured I had taken.

We looked it over carefully using his binoculars. Those twisting ravines had lured me into deeper woods. I could see the sun heading for a long snooze, and a few stars winked. A bold breeze welcomed me back. And beside me stood two wonderful people. Thinking about how much they cared for me was the strength I leaned on way down there.

          Cobequid Bay spread out almost at our feet. From here to that large expanse of water stretched rows of shadowy valleys filled with trees, creeks and ponds. Spruce and poplar now stood covered in darkness. I remembered feeling so alone, among them.

          The thought that I could have been lost forever was overwhelming.

          "Now you're here. Safe, beside us," Larry said. "The trees and animals go on forever. It's part of life's plan," he said. "Seasons come and go. Nature adapts. Never forget that Shel," he added. "Life goes on."

          "Dad still should have said goodbye!" I said rather crossly.

          Later that night as I lay in bed Larry's words rang clear in my head. And mom had said, "No matter what happened yesterday, there's still today and tomorrow." Yes, it's so true. And the memories, and good times; they go on forever too.

          I got up from my bed and walked across the floor. The moon had created a path of white, leading to the window. I felt like an owl surveying the world outside my comfortable chamber. The sky was overcast and late lights from nearby houses meant others were still up.

          Perhaps they too had things on their mind.

          It was almost midnight. I could see the numbers glowing as my alarm clock ticked loudly. I counted off the seconds and watched the second hand move towards its final destination.

          It seemed to move in slow motion as it hit number twelve. Now it was midnight. Then, one second after midnight. Saturday had arrived.

          After dad left, I often closed my eyes and dreamed he would come back. Then I waited patiently for him to arrive. But he did not. Today my dad would normally be arriving. Did I really think he would be here today?

"No!" my mind said emphatically. And the realization finally hit me.

          That one word, "No," had swept swiftly from my lips. The sound made a loud statement in the privacy of my room. It was as if dad and I were paddling furiously in the canoe. I was the sterns-man, and in full control of our destination.

          I knew mom was sound asleep across the hall. And Larry was probably too, just a quarter mile away.   

Suddenly something important began to take place in my room. The air felt electrified. Cool chills leapt across my back and it wasn't the November wind tearing around outside my window, either. I turned my desk light on. Then found a ballpoint pen and writing paper. I knew I had grown up physically. Sitting here alone in my room I now understood how much I had been surrounded by love.

          Not just from mom and Larry, but also from dad.

          I was in a protective cocoon long enough, and it was time to burst out. I needed to stand up, and stop feeling sorry for myself. Pleasant memories of many trips with dad washed over me. Good memories. Lasting memories.

          In my heart, it was time to forgive him. Right now. Finally, it was done. My jaw clenched and my fists felt like iron. Anger and hostility held in for too long released themselves through my joints and onto the cold floor. I relaxed. It felt wonderful.

          A shudder passed through my body.

          It was now up to me to follow the proper trail. I needed to put a match to the firewood, to create a flame of light that wiped away the darkness. And prove that a boy had now earned his manhood.

          I looked around the silent room feeling relieved in the knowledge I wasn't alone anymore. My mom was with me, and my great friend Larry. Even my father, my dad was with me. We were still a family.

          I reached for my teddy bear. It was a link of love. Dad told me one Saturday trip we had, he had given it to me years ago. I had forgotten. Now I placed it back on the shelf, alongside other good memories.

          I sat at my desk, straightened my chair, and began to write:

“Dear Dad,

It's been so long, and I miss you...”

                                              

© 2004-2019 Esther and Richard L. Provencher

Dester Publications. All rights reserved.