Turning it on, I ducked under the largest of the branches, stretching out from the base of the tree. On the other side of the great oak, now hidden in the dark and out of the reach of the fading light, lay the connected history of the Owens men.
Chapter 7
My life seemed to be a blur, the past and present collapsing on top of each other. Sitting in the hospital room, holding on to my grandfather’s motionless hand, my memories contributed to the insane rollercoaster of emotions I was riding. In my youth, I had found ways to shelter and hide away the hurt and misgivings, which had become a part of my life. Now I faced a future without certainty, and it was rapidly unraveling before my eyes. Not that anyone ever really knows what will happen to him or where he will end up, but I felt like I was being tossed around on a ship in a violent storm, hanging on for dear life and praying for steady ground. When you lose your cornerstone of stability, you can’t help but feel the currents of forced change pulling at the very core, unwinding it like thread from a spool. This is how I felt, as I looked down into the serene face of my Grandfather. No longer did I have an anchor to stop me from drifting away, for that was what my life had been doing the last six years, drifting along with the currents and finding neither salvation nor direction. The only measure of certainty I once could count on had been my grandparents. They were my anchor rope. Now they were both gone, and gone with them were all hopes of securing my life against the pull of the endless currents.
Under my breath and with all of my heart, I asked God to right my ship. I was willing to be guided once more by the signs I had ignored for so long. If I could be granted one chance, I would attempt to heal the wounds of my past so I could find my way back to feeling human again. Cleansing tears began to fill my eyes and make their way down my cheeks. I stood up on trembling legs, uncertain if they could sustain my weight. I was too afraid to let go of Grandpa Jake’s hand. His once rugged hand, now softened by time, exemplified the character of the man for me. It contained all the strength he had given me and all of the love he had shown me. I clung to his hand and desperately tried to draw every last bit of hope from it. Grandpa Jake could steady me in times of trouble, and I needed his faith and guidance more today than I ever did in the past.
Before the doctor had left me alone, he made sure Grandpa Jake’s eyes were closed. It didn’t matter to me; I could still see his bright, blue eyes, full of life in my mind. His eyes were sparkling as they had always done, conveying the years of laughter and knowledge he’d acquired and shared. It was this image I held tightly to. With a final, gentle squeeze, I tenderly laid my grandfather’s hand on his chest. Using both of my arms to steady myself, I bent over Grandpa Jake so I could kiss him goodbye. What I wouldn’t have given for one final hug and laugh from him, one more endearing phrase of encouragement. He always seemed to know when I needed his help and he gave it at just the right time. As I kissed his forehead, the overflowing, warm tears of my love for him dropped from my eyes and fell on his face. Slowly, the fallen tears began an unbearable trek, first shimmering in the fluorescent glow of the hospital room lights, they caressed his cheek and then un-joyously slid past his ear, falling silently on the pillow.
It took all the strength I had inside to stop myself from collapsing and succumbing to a new wave of grief. In the deepest recesses of my heart and mind, I imagined the tears were those of my beloved grandfather. The angels’ enlightening grace had allowed Grandpa to shed his own tears, one last time. Maybe it was a final testament to the turbulence within my soul. It could not be perceived as anything other than a sign, meant for me alone. Whether generated in my mind or Heaven-guided, I was filled
Chapter 7
My life seemed to be a blur, the past and present collapsing on top of each other. Sitting in the hospital room, holding on to my grandfather’s motionless hand, my memories contributed to the insane rollercoaster of emotions I was riding. In my youth, I had found ways to shelter and hide away the hurt and misgivings, which had become a part of my life. Now I faced a future without certainty, and it was rapidly unraveling before my eyes. Not that anyone ever really knows what will happen to him or where he will end up, but I felt like I was being tossed around on a ship in a violent storm, hanging on for dear life and praying for steady ground. When you lose your cornerstone of stability, you can’t help but feel the currents of forced change pulling at the very core, unwinding it like thread from a spool. This is how I felt, as I looked down into the serene face of my Grandfather. No longer did I have an anchor to stop me from drifting away, for that was what my life had been doing the last six years, drifting along with the currents and finding neither salvation nor direction. The only measure of certainty I once could count on had been my grandparents. They were my anchor rope. Now they were both gone, and gone with them were all hopes of securing my life against the pull of the endless currents.
Under my breath and with all of my heart, I asked God to right my ship. I was willing to be guided once more by the signs I had ignored for so long. If I could be granted one chance, I would attempt to heal the wounds of my past so I could find my way back to feeling human again. Cleansing tears began to fill my eyes and make their way down my cheeks. I stood up on trembling legs, uncertain if they could sustain my weight. I was too afraid to let go of Grandpa Jake’s hand. His once rugged hand, now softened by time, exemplified the character of the man for me. It contained all the strength he had given me and all of the love he had shown me. I clung to his hand and desperately tried to draw every last bit of hope from it. Grandpa Jake could steady me in times of trouble, and I needed his faith and guidance more today than I ever did in the past.
Before the doctor had left me alone, he made sure Grandpa Jake’s eyes were closed. It didn’t matter to me; I could still see his bright, blue eyes, full of life in my mind. His eyes were sparkling as they had always done, conveying the years of laughter and knowledge he’d acquired and shared. It was this image I held tightly to. With a final, gentle squeeze, I tenderly laid my grandfather’s hand on his chest. Using both of my arms to steady myself, I bent over Grandpa Jake so I could kiss him goodbye. What I wouldn’t have given for one final hug and laugh from him, one more endearing phrase of encouragement. He always seemed to know when I needed his help and he gave it at just the right time. As I kissed his forehead, the overflowing, warm tears of my love for him dropped from my eyes and fell on his face. Slowly, the fallen tears began an unbearable trek, first shimmering in the fluorescent glow of the hospital room lights, they caressed his cheek and then un-joyously slid past his ear, falling silently on the pillow.
It took all the strength I had inside to stop myself from collapsing and succumbing to a new wave of grief. In the deepest recesses of my heart and mind, I imagined the tears were those of my beloved grandfather. The angels’ enlightening grace had allowed Grandpa to shed his own tears, one last time. Maybe it was a final testament to the turbulence within my soul. It could not be perceived as anything other than a sign, meant for me alone. Whether generated in my mind or Heaven-guided, I was filled
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