Her loss was my story and collective guilt, though I doubt it could have been written any other way. The threads of our lives were caught in a whirlwind spinning outward. With so many pages left unturned.
Her life once existed as a mere thread, hinging upon other stories and other outcomes. Fortunately grace was rendered in a quick thaw as the gathering cold was about to re-enter our lives.
The days now hung before us, as upon an icy fog; it weighed us down and closed around us. Shrouding secrets unknown and unbearable. Now only memories challenged our dreams, and painful new beginnings. It was hard to know where we stood.
No time to consider, less time to love
Where did it go, these feelings and these thoughts.
The smell of a baby and the touch of compassion.
My daughter came and went into a smoldering sadness and by an act of Providence or natural destiny flowered into something special once again. I remember her tears as much as her words and the knowledge that some things cannot be undone.
Regardless, the convergence of our lives were manifest destiny and the whims of a mother could not permanently divide.
She grew to realize that the lies were silly and I didn’t need to infer, rather Rachel was blessed both in name and in spirit. Her experiences gave her light in the darkness and I doted upon her. We filled in as many blanks as we could and the answers met expectations as seamlessly as possible.
And about that time, was a movie that I had watched. A father and daughter separated by adversity and reunited in love. A father’s love is priceless. This I know now but I also know that a gentle hand brings favor.
The few moments I had in ‘88, was like the black and white memories of an old show. And at the moment of pitched blackness, came the heralding of fulfillment.
Those few moments were like tiny seeds that fell deep into rich soil and their maturity assured their health and their closure. Both hers and then mine.
Life is sooooo good….