A Walk in the Park

A Walk in the Park

         We went for a walk in the park together.  It was a beautiful day--the sun shone down through the trees, and I sat at the foot of a big oak just watching the dappled light on the ground.  You sat beside me like always, just comforting me with your presence.  I listened to the wind in the leaves, and wondered what I was going to do, tears still fresh on my cheeks. 

After a while I got up and walked again.  You were at my side, wordless but still there.  I wasn't sure if your presence made me feel better or worse, so I stayed silent and just walked like we always did. 

I finally broke the silence.  "You didn't have to leave.  You shouldn't have gone.  I hate that you wouldn't stay, not even for me."  Fresh tears broke through then, and for just a second I held you close, trying to feel the love and safety I used to feel with you.  I regained my composure, just slightly, and kept walking.

We came to the stream that ran through the park.  Clear water and green trees made for a picturesque scene, but I wanted nothing more than to leave.  I knew it was your favorite place, though, and what was coming had to be done.  You were always there for me, so I would be there for you.

Without a word, I sighed, closed my eyes, and walked to the stream's edge.  The stream burbled happily, oblivious to my pain and loneliness, drifting along as it always had and always would.  I thought of the times we'd come here before, and almost gave in to my tears again--but found myself smiling instead.  Memories of splashing in the stream as a child, picnics in the sunlight, and many, many long walks filled my head, and I knew this was the right thing.  This was our place.  I opened the urn in my hands and let your ashes drift into the stream.

"Bye, Dad."