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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1721029-My-Dearest-Son
by JACE
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1721029
A tradition begins ... and continues.
My Dearest Son,

It's my sincere delight to welcome you to our family. Your arrival amidst all the turmoil of our world today is a source of profound joy and hope for me--joy that I will be a Dad and hope that you will grow up in a world made safe from tyranny and oppression. You, dear son, have made me the happiest man alive.

When your mother told me of your pending arrival, I despaired at the timing of this blessed event. I will be unable to be with your mother throughout your growth inside her. Nor will I be able to hold you in my arms and watch you open your eyes to the wonder that surrounds you. But, God willing, I will be there to help you grow. I pray that God watches over you and your mother until I return safely to you both.

I will be always your loving father,

Dad


* * *


Tighe Daniels. I was named after the best man I never knew--my father. Dad had found out Mom was pregnant just a week before shipping out to the Pacific. The Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor just a month prior. He'd told Mom enlisting was something he had to do. He never returned.

Tighe folded the yellowed letter, placing it carefully back in the matching colored envelope. It was creased and worn not only with age, but from the original journey the letter had made twenty-four years earlier, hopping from island to island before being posted to his mother for the son he would never meet.

Tighe was given the letter on his twelfth birthday along with a 28-guage shotgun that had been passed down from great-grandfather to grandfather to father to him on that same birthday. Even at that young age, the letter had become his most prized possession, more so than the lovingly maintained shotgun. While he'd never fired the gun, it was proudly displayed over the fireplace in his own home. His letter, on the other hand, was kept safe and secure in a very special walnut box he'd made in Shop while still in High School. Tighe was always good with his hands, a trait his mother said came from his Dad.

He gazed fondly at the envelope. It was addressed to Tighe Daniels, Junior. Tighe had once asked his mother how his dad had known he would be a boy. His mom just smiled and pointed above. Tighe never could understood why God had seen fit to take his dad from him before he'd gotten to know him; Dad must have been very important for God to want him with Him.

He walked through the quiet house, his footsteps echoing in his ears. Every creaking floorboard stirred memories as he walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Closing his eyes, he saw himself busting through the screen door and bolting down the same hallway after school hoping to find the source of that wonderful smell wafting across the front yard--chocolate chip cookies, his favorite.

Today, though, there was no favored smell, nor a soft voice asking him to slow down. There were only the ghosts and memories of happier times. Returning to the house from the funeral, he wanted to spend some time alone. He looked out the kitchen window at the old tire hanging from the tree. His dad had hung it there before leaving. He'd said a boy should have something to look forward to.

From the time he was old enough to hold on by himself, Tighe had spent many hours on that swing. Oh, he'd fallen off his share of times. But he always got back on--he didn't ever want his dad to be disappointed.

As he walked toward the swing, Tighe smiled, knowing his dad was still watching over him. Only now his mom was at Dad's side ... finally. Tighe had come to realize his mother was always a bit sad that she was never able to share her life with Dad. Now she was at peace too.

As he looked past the swing toward the homestead, the colors of the late fall seemed to be more vivid than he remembered. Mom must have been showing Dad her life with Tighe.

All at once, Tighe's heart swelled with pride as he thought of his dad's letter to him. He and his wife had no children yet, but he knew they would one day, hopefully in the not-too-distant future. Returning to the house, he took a sheet of paper from the desk and wrote.

My dearest Son....


Word Count: 773 words



Written for and submitted to the October 2010
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