I Continued to Wait

Normally, there would be the presence of one person and one person only, or should I say one entity only, who possess the possibility to liberate a 70 years old man from his aspiration of infinite prospect in the middle of the daylight’s twin of unfortunate. It is Mr. Reaper. However, I perceive another decade before I had the pleasure to be visited by him during my chain of redemption. The actual reason that woke me up during the midnight of September 21^st was excitement. I was overly thrilled for standing in front of the brink of reunion. My only son, my only valuable ruins that I could excavate from the remaining of an inopportune clan. I was not sure what had revoked his previous intention of eternal cursing on my appearance for the crime which I had performed on our beloved family 10 years in the past. The crime of which had delivered the soul of my precious affection, his cherished mother away from this existence of humanity. I could nonetheless scout for her wandering soul on this side, but rarely through my son’s furious window of vision. I was forever haunted not by the way I accidentally slaughtered my wife and destroyed the life of an innocent boy but rather the way I chose to become such devil that I could have never forgive myself for. I wish I had never envied that liquid of entertainment more than my true lovers so that I created an aggressive rival. Enough cleansing for myself, it was indeed a miracle for my son to finally decide to meet up with this convicted after all these years. Still, I had doubts about the real purpose of this event. Though, I hoped for the best to occur. In the end, there was never existed the immense trip of oblivion, as I nourished the desire to remedy what I took from him, what I stole from myself. I prepared, dressed up nicely and casually. I tried to be distinctive from the place I was being isolated from society. I could not trust my discernment to possess a car for the horrors I had done. Then, I just sat there in the living room and waited behind the door for the horizon to reveal itself, waited for my son to come back. I forgot that I was an elder; therefore, I was mounted to deep and sudden periods of sleep. More than being surprised, I was astonished by the way I managed to find sleeps regard the preceding. Perhaps, I was born to serve in the fate of a cold killer. While my soul was wandering on its vacation in the abyss, the sound of the alarm clock rang and contracted the youthful spirit of mine. However, only when I was widening my eyes slowly that I realized I did not have any alarm clock and it was instead the sound of someone knocking at the door. It was then the early morning of September 22^nd. I sprung to the door assuming it could merely be one person. I was right and there he was. The infiltration of a warm breeze under this cool weather of Winter’s older brother I felt. He rose tall, muscular with confidence posing his stance firmly.

“David…!” I gave out a welcome.

He responded with nothing, not even a slight movement on his facial appearance. It was so quiet that I could seemingly hear the sound of wild birds outside consuming their tiny, puny prey. He gently lifted his foot to generate insignificant earthquakes on the floor as he proceeded through my apparition to enter the house. He scanned his expectation around the house while keeping his back occupied my view. All of a sudden, he collapsed on the floor. His majestically biological columns could no longer support his linger for the energy that flew through them had been imprisoned by the unexpected emotional feels. He kneeled down. He was no longer a strong, prosperous figure like I saw previously but then a fragile representative of an infant for the somber cries he was painting on his face.

“Oh…David! I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry!” I mourned.

I joined him under the sorrowful atmosphere of this uncomfortable family gathering. It was fairly a heavy flood that came out of such unfortunate mortals like us. Nevertheless, it was Fall season and no shower of tears could last for so long. We finally settled down on separate seats. A familiar hush disguised itself in the transparent flow of God’s breath. Even so, I fought back the dominant mood as I had been labeled with unforgivable guilts.

“How is your life?” I asked.

“I bet it has been a journey for you…A terrific one…Without me getting in your way, everything must have been vowing to you,” I snuck in the disturbing silence between.

“It hasn’t been that much promising…,” he replied softly.

My intention was drawn deeply to the conclusion of his sentence whereas I was yearning for the description that he was about to place on me. Would it going to be the resounding “dad” or the distant “father” or neither because of the least expected had become the most realistic with my name “Jack”?

“…dad!” he ended.

I was very delighted when I heard the criticism from him despite the massive force of imitation that I managed to detect, which was forming and hiding behind the word.

“I’ve been struggling throughout these years…at my own pace. Even though, I deserved better from the higher intelligence who had been cultivating me since the moment I left you…the moment you made us departed from your life!” he said.

Correspondingly, he presented a gazing peer at me which indicated the prior incident of unforgettable, its painful feelings.

“I participated in sale, became a businessman, selling, buying… do whatever to it takes to satisfy them,” he continued.

“It doesn’t sound so terrible!” I added.

Obviously, my lack of knowledge had triggered his temper which was about to drown me in the pool of refinement.

“It may seem great to you…, dad. Nevertheless, only the soldier that got involved in a war knew the true potential of its purpose.”

“It was brutal, chaotic. We had to eliminate our rival viciously to protect our stand in the competition. No need to know where they are, who they were. If they carry any indifferences against us, we take them down… on orders!” he expressed.

At this point, I was somewhat fascinated by his ways of conveying an opposition in a field of career into a ruthless physical conflict. At the same time, I was worrying for him because of the emotive outcomes that he was constructing after his own manipulation.

“So, what makes you come back to this old capsule?” I tried to divert this conversation to a more encouraging direction.

“I think you already know the answer…I came back for you…, dad!” he answered broadly.

“Look! I know what I did. I know how horrifying it was to you. I know regretfully I was deeply in. From that, I don’t have the right to blame you for the hatred you casted upon me. I just hope that you’d forgive me after I joined your mother under the green field of grass,” I thought.

“Actually, it’s the complete opposite!” he countered.

“I came back because I want to fulfill the things which I have not had the chance to do throughout my whole life, now that I have spent my soul for the battle of money,”

“I forgive you, dad. I hope to be your son again!”

“You’ve always been my one and only son, David… Thank you…thank you, son!” I cried.

“I’m gonna go make some tea for us if you don’t mind. All of this emotional chat has dried me up. I’m old you know!” I created an offer, which he did not refuse, to lighten up the mood.

My son did not say anything else after announcing what I craved for more than everything as I gradually walked to the kitchen to make the tea that I promised him.

“…and be with mom!” he suddenly said.

“What’s that?” I asked confusedly.

“The things I wanted to fulfill…forgive you and be with mom,” he made himself clear.

At this moment, I heard the same annoying sound. However, it came from an alarm clock this time for it woke me up to the true reality of the current. I realized it was a dream which I recognized as one of the happiest alternatives I could think of. It was the midnight of September 21^st of 1968, the date my son was announced decease in Vietnam and safely placed in a coffin to be brought back to the US. On the early morning of September 22^nd, I dressed up formally to attend his funeral, also my first physical contact with him after all these years. A conversation with only myself. I had lost my wife, my son, the critical components to fortify a man’s hope in this life. Though, at least I knew he had forgiven for what I have done. Now, I’m waiting for Death to pay a visit as soon as possible so that I can say and expect the same answer from my beloved wife.