the Dim Light

I sat with an old friend today… in his home… in his resting place. He didn’t greet me at the door this time. He sat in his favorite chair… the leather held him from all around.

He was thinner than before. He smiled with purpose, but his eyes were tired. I felt his effort. His clothes seemed too heavy for the season as they folded themselves around his frame… but I understood.

I shook his hand and patted his leg to let him know that I was the same… the smiles and laughter I carry with me fell into the room with us. The television was on, but the volume was low… too low to hear, but too loud to ignore. So we glanced occasionally in silence together to see the shapes move across the screen… in the quiet and in the dim light.

I felt comfortable enough to ask him the questions of my heart. I wanted to know how he felt at this time in his life. How he wanted to spend his time and how the world saw him in his time. He did not shy from the answers. He said he was relieved to say the words… the words he did not know how to express without someone asking for them. So I listened… and he talked…

He misses his daughter… his daughter who is beautiful and fills the room with her energy... his daughter that wraps her arms around him and hugs him like she won’t let go. He wants to know her dreams. He wants to feel her emotions. He misses his sweet baby that grew up before he could catch his breath. He misses the quiet nights holding her hand in the mist of the summer… a summer by the ferris wheel she may not remember…

He knows the truths of his time… and he waits. He waits in good spirit and smiles the polite smiles to friends and family who tell him tales of the future that he knows he will not see… but he waits. I will wait in his time with him… beside his chair and in his home… in the dim light of his life...

                                                          Shannon R Killman