Gone...but not Forever
Jun. 2nd, 2007 11:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosa_cotton"I was hoping you'd write something," was my mom's first comment after she proofread this for me. I wrote this little piece in memory of "Father." *sigh*
~~~
Gone…but not Forever
The almost six-year-old wraps his arms around his knees as he gazes out the window. There is surprisingly not a cloud in sight. The sun shines brightly amidst the clear blue sky. It is a beautiful day. A wonderful day for a bike ride.
Peter Pevensie swallows hard, his throat burning, and blinks his eyes rapidly. Grandpa preferred getting around by bicycle; he never liked traveling by car. Many afternoons he and Peter had ridden through the park together.
Though Grandpa was old – “Old and tall as the hills,” he’d whisper with a wink – he had always enjoyed playing marbles with Peter and Susan, giving Edmund piggyback rides, and causing baby Lucy to laugh by making funny faces. Often he’d walk them the several blocks to the candy store for a lollipop.
When Mum or Grandma would fuss at him, he was always amused and laughed away their concern. When once it was suggested he was getting too old to ride his bicycle, he had protested fiercely. Riding in the park with Peter was their special time, Grandpa had said, and he wasn’t going to give it up any time soon.
Grandpa loved it when he made his grandchildren happy. He had brought Peter his bicycle for his birthday. He read books to Edmund before the boy went to bed. He had carved a set of wooden blocks for Lucy to help her learn her alphabet and colors. He’d grin widely when he would tug on one of Susan’s pigtails, tied with a new ribbon, making her giggle. He was as mischievous as a schoolboy at times, Mum accused him fondly.
Peter quickly brushes his hand over his eyes. Mum says Grandpa is gone. There won’t be any more bike rides through the park with Grandpa. No more trips to the candy store holding his wrinkled hand. He won’t laugh or joke anymore. There will be no more stories or presents. He will never come visit them.
Mum says Grandpa went to another place, a better place, where he isn’t old and can run and sing, is happy. And Peter will see him again someday – if he believes like Grandpa.
The boy closes his eyes tightly. He cannot understand what happened to Grandpa, why he left them. Mum said he could see him again. He wants to; he misses Grandpa terribly.
Something bumps his leg, and Peter opens his eyes to discover two-and-a-half-year-old Edmund trying to climb onto the seat next to him. Carefully, he hoists his brother up beside him. The dark-haired boy blinks at Peter, seemingly puzzled as he sucks on his finger for a moment.
“Peta?” And Edmund leans against him, his small arms wrapping around him as best they can.
Peter slowly hugs Ed in return. Now the tears come.
THE END
~~~
Gone…but not Forever
The almost six-year-old wraps his arms around his knees as he gazes out the window. There is surprisingly not a cloud in sight. The sun shines brightly amidst the clear blue sky. It is a beautiful day. A wonderful day for a bike ride.
Peter Pevensie swallows hard, his throat burning, and blinks his eyes rapidly. Grandpa preferred getting around by bicycle; he never liked traveling by car. Many afternoons he and Peter had ridden through the park together.
Though Grandpa was old – “Old and tall as the hills,” he’d whisper with a wink – he had always enjoyed playing marbles with Peter and Susan, giving Edmund piggyback rides, and causing baby Lucy to laugh by making funny faces. Often he’d walk them the several blocks to the candy store for a lollipop.
When Mum or Grandma would fuss at him, he was always amused and laughed away their concern. When once it was suggested he was getting too old to ride his bicycle, he had protested fiercely. Riding in the park with Peter was their special time, Grandpa had said, and he wasn’t going to give it up any time soon.
Grandpa loved it when he made his grandchildren happy. He had brought Peter his bicycle for his birthday. He read books to Edmund before the boy went to bed. He had carved a set of wooden blocks for Lucy to help her learn her alphabet and colors. He’d grin widely when he would tug on one of Susan’s pigtails, tied with a new ribbon, making her giggle. He was as mischievous as a schoolboy at times, Mum accused him fondly.
Peter quickly brushes his hand over his eyes. Mum says Grandpa is gone. There won’t be any more bike rides through the park with Grandpa. No more trips to the candy store holding his wrinkled hand. He won’t laugh or joke anymore. There will be no more stories or presents. He will never come visit them.
Mum says Grandpa went to another place, a better place, where he isn’t old and can run and sing, is happy. And Peter will see him again someday – if he believes like Grandpa.
The boy closes his eyes tightly. He cannot understand what happened to Grandpa, why he left them. Mum said he could see him again. He wants to; he misses Grandpa terribly.
Something bumps his leg, and Peter opens his eyes to discover two-and-a-half-year-old Edmund trying to climb onto the seat next to him. Carefully, he hoists his brother up beside him. The dark-haired boy blinks at Peter, seemingly puzzled as he sucks on his finger for a moment.
“Peta?” And Edmund leans against him, his small arms wrapping around him as best they can.
Peter slowly hugs Ed in return. Now the tears come.
THE END
