Steele Missing You
Father’s Day 1987
The Steeles didn’t always attend church on Sunday. They did on this one. Remington often found that when Laura became solemn over a period of days, attending Mass sometimes gave her the chance to unravel whatever knotty issue had lodged itself into her brain.
He was never sure if it was the meditative aspects of the service, the words of the priest, or simply the familiar ritual that worked, and perhaps it was some combination of the three. But as they knelt in the pew after taking Communion, he felt Laura’s hand reaching for his. He took it and tried to rub away some of the iciness in her fingers. For the remaining few minutes of Mass they stayed that way, holding hands until the last verse of the last song was sung.
They stepped outside the church, the bright June light warming the earth and the air blowing cool and sweet on these last few days of spring. Without comment, Laura took the wheel of the Rabbit and drove to the outskirts of town. Remington merely sighed, knowing she would unburden herself when she was ready. He did wonder where they might be going.
In the middle of a small patch of countryside, she parked near an equally small cemetery. It was dotted here and there with markers, some large, some small. Flowers marked each grave, and the green grass was interrupted by the presence of a lone woman in the far corner of the field.
Laura walked between the rows, arms crossed, hands tucked under, and her head down. Near the end she stopped, turning to face the marker. As the tears rolled silently down her cheeks, Remington pulled her into his arms, hurting as she grieved for her lost father. His own eyes dampened, thinking of Daniel and how he’d missed him this past year.
In that lonely field, it took time before the words would come for either of them. When they did, there was anger, reflection, more tears--and eventually, a half-hearted chuckle or two. In time, they each acknowledged that there are some holes in the heart that never heal.
Sitting at the foot of the grave in the warm spring afternoon, the Steeles let their fathers live--in their hearts and memories--for yet another day.
21 June 2009 (Happy Father's Day)
edited 1 May 2010
Father’s Day 1987
The Steeles didn’t always attend church on Sunday. They did on this one. Remington often found that when Laura became solemn over a period of days, attending Mass sometimes gave her the chance to unravel whatever knotty issue had lodged itself into her brain.
He was never sure if it was the meditative aspects of the service, the words of the priest, or simply the familiar ritual that worked, and perhaps it was some combination of the three. But as they knelt in the pew after taking Communion, he felt Laura’s hand reaching for his. He took it and tried to rub away some of the iciness in her fingers. For the remaining few minutes of Mass they stayed that way, holding hands until the last verse of the last song was sung.
They stepped outside the church, the bright June light warming the earth and the air blowing cool and sweet on these last few days of spring. Without comment, Laura took the wheel of the Rabbit and drove to the outskirts of town. Remington merely sighed, knowing she would unburden herself when she was ready. He did wonder where they might be going.
In the middle of a small patch of countryside, she parked near an equally small cemetery. It was dotted here and there with markers, some large, some small. Flowers marked each grave, and the green grass was interrupted by the presence of a lone woman in the far corner of the field.
Laura walked between the rows, arms crossed, hands tucked under, and her head down. Near the end she stopped, turning to face the marker. As the tears rolled silently down her cheeks, Remington pulled her into his arms, hurting as she grieved for her lost father. His own eyes dampened, thinking of Daniel and how he’d missed him this past year.
In that lonely field, it took time before the words would come for either of them. When they did, there was anger, reflection, more tears--and eventually, a half-hearted chuckle or two. In time, they each acknowledged that there are some holes in the heart that never heal.
Sitting at the foot of the grave in the warm spring afternoon, the Steeles let their fathers live--in their hearts and memories--for yet another day.
21 June 2009 (Happy Father's Day)
edited 1 May 2010
Steele Holting On
Steele
Holting On
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