Same time. Same place. Fourteen years later. The memory hasn’t faded. The nightmares remain.
We stand quietly, my hand on his shoulder, staring out across the ocean.
Every year we do this. I wait for him to speak although I know exactly what he will say. His words have never changed. “I miss them.” Neither has mine. “Me too.”
“Dad, I don’t want to do this again. We need to move on.”
Tears well. “It’s okay, I understand. I’ll come alone next time.”
“Sure?”
“Sure.”
“Okay then.”
Same time. Same place. Same words.
We stand quietly, my hand on his shoulder, staring out across the ocean.
Every year we do this. I wait for him to speak although I know exactly what he will say. His words have never changed. “I miss them.” Neither has mine. “Me too.”
“Dad, I don’t want to do this again. We need to move on.”
Tears well. “It’s okay, I understand. I’ll come alone next time.”
“Sure?”
“Sure.”
“Okay then.”
Same time. Same place. Same words.
