he could
not fathom but he did and it was enough.
“You are doing it, my
son, by being here to take care of my girl. She is a handful,
but she is a good girl and will be a good wife to you.”
The bony fingers
pressed against the strong hand that enveloped it for a moment
and then it relaxed. “I'm sorry. I think I must rest a bit.”
“But, Papa,” Lyrianne
leaned forward, putting her hands over her father's skeletal arm
above the wrist, “you have to eat first.”
His head rolled
weakly back and forth and he smiled. “I'm not hungry, baby.” He
rolled his head to the side again and stopped when his eyes
seemed to fasten on a spot beyond where Lyrianne and Miguel were
sitting.
A smile, one that
Lyrianne remembered from before he'd fallen so ill, wreathed his
face in its own light as he continued to stare. “He came, Genia,
just as you said he would. I can go with you now, my love.” His
words were hard to hear, but Lyrianne did hear them and she held
her breath, releasing it on a sob when she heard his breath
leave his body for the last time in a rattling sigh, his eyes
closing at the same time.
“Papa?” Lyrianne put
a hand on the stilled chest, her eyes dry as she stared at him.
“Papa.”
Miguel’s mouth opened
and he breathed in, the hand in his deathly still and lifeless.
He did not at once release it. Not until the woman beside him
tried to rouse her father. Leaning forward, he rested the
withered hand upon the ceased chest and rose to his feet. His
hand he lay then upon Lyrianne’s shoulder. She pressed her cheek
against it for a moment while she continued to watch her father,
looking for him to take a breath she knew would never come
again.
“Thank you, Miguel.
You don't know how much it means to me that you did that.”
She placed her hand
over his briefly then straightened and stood. Leaning over the
bed, she settled her father into a comfortable position, his
hands folded over his chest, with as much care and love as she'd
been giving him for months now.
She turned to the Fed
pilot and brushed her hair back from her face, looking weary and
sad though her eyes remained dry. “Are you hungry?” She sounded
as worn as she looked, drained of all emotion. “I'll fix us
something to eat. If you want to get cleaned up while I'm doing
that, there's a bath up here or a shower on the main floor,
whichever you prefer. I'll bring you some fresh clothes and
there are clean towels in the bathroom.”
He would have
objected. The words were right there in his mouth, but he knew
that sometimes one had to be busy in times of grief. It was that
way back home with family. The women always seemed to putter
about, finding this thing that needed fixing and that person
feeding. He stepped back, gave her hand a squeeze and left the
room and the woman to say her goodbyes in private.
Lyrianne didn't stay
in the room for long. She'd been saying her goodbyes for days
now. She felt as numb everywhere as the Freeze-It had made her
ankle when she softly closed the door to her parents' room.
Passing by Miguel without looking up, she continued down the
hall to her brothers' room, coming back out with another shirt
and another pair of pants. She stopped at the linen closet to
take out two of their best towels, bigger and fluffier than the
ones in the bathroom cupboard.
When she handed him
the stack she held, she managed a smile. “Does a roast with
steamed vegetables sound alright? There's a berry pie for
dessert, too. It should be ready by the time you finish.”
Miguel only nodded
and said “That would be great,” before thanking her for the
toiletries and excusing himself to the washroom. Once he was
safely inside with his back to the closed door, he listened
until he could no longer hear her retreating footsteps. Then he
let out his breath in a heavy sigh and pushed away to set the
stack
not fathom but he did and it was enough.
“You are doing it, my
son, by being here to take care of my girl. She is a handful,
but she is a good girl and will be a good wife to you.”
The bony fingers
pressed against the strong hand that enveloped it for a moment
and then it relaxed. “I'm sorry. I think I must rest a bit.”
“But, Papa,” Lyrianne
leaned forward, putting her hands over her father's skeletal arm
above the wrist, “you have to eat first.”
His head rolled
weakly back and forth and he smiled. “I'm not hungry, baby.” He
rolled his head to the side again and stopped when his eyes
seemed to fasten on a spot beyond where Lyrianne and Miguel were
sitting.
A smile, one that
Lyrianne remembered from before he'd fallen so ill, wreathed his
face in its own light as he continued to stare. “He came, Genia,
just as you said he would. I can go with you now, my love.” His
words were hard to hear, but Lyrianne did hear them and she held
her breath, releasing it on a sob when she heard his breath
leave his body for the last time in a rattling sigh, his eyes
closing at the same time.
“Papa?” Lyrianne put
a hand on the stilled chest, her eyes dry as she stared at him.
“Papa.”
Miguel’s mouth opened
and he breathed in, the hand in his deathly still and lifeless.
He did not at once release it. Not until the woman beside him
tried to rouse her father. Leaning forward, he rested the
withered hand upon the ceased chest and rose to his feet. His
hand he lay then upon Lyrianne’s shoulder. She pressed her cheek
against it for a moment while she continued to watch her father,
looking for him to take a breath she knew would never come
again.
“Thank you, Miguel.
You don't know how much it means to me that you did that.”
She placed her hand
over his briefly then straightened and stood. Leaning over the
bed, she settled her father into a comfortable position, his
hands folded over his chest, with as much care and love as she'd
been giving him for months now.
She turned to the Fed
pilot and brushed her hair back from her face, looking weary and
sad though her eyes remained dry. “Are you hungry?” She sounded
as worn as she looked, drained of all emotion. “I'll fix us
something to eat. If you want to get cleaned up while I'm doing
that, there's a bath up here or a shower on the main floor,
whichever you prefer. I'll bring you some fresh clothes and
there are clean towels in the bathroom.”
He would have
objected. The words were right there in his mouth, but he knew
that sometimes one had to be busy in times of grief. It was that
way back home with family. The women always seemed to putter
about, finding this thing that needed fixing and that person
feeding. He stepped back, gave her hand a squeeze and left the
room and the woman to say her goodbyes in private.
Lyrianne didn't stay
in the room for long. She'd been saying her goodbyes for days
now. She felt as numb everywhere as the Freeze-It had made her
ankle when she softly closed the door to her parents' room.
Passing by Miguel without looking up, she continued down the
hall to her brothers' room, coming back out with another shirt
and another pair of pants. She stopped at the linen closet to
take out two of their best towels, bigger and fluffier than the
ones in the bathroom cupboard.
When she handed him
the stack she held, she managed a smile. “Does a roast with
steamed vegetables sound alright? There's a berry pie for
dessert, too. It should be ready by the time you finish.”
Miguel only nodded
and said “That would be great,” before thanking her for the
toiletries and excusing himself to the washroom. Once he was
safely inside with his back to the closed door, he listened
until he could no longer hear her retreating footsteps. Then he
let out his breath in a heavy sigh and pushed away to set the
stack
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