One not used to speaking in public, we laughed and interjected.
One a leader of men, we cried, silent.
A daughter's wedding.
A son's funeral.
Same age.
One right.
One seemingly wrong.
All with faith.
Both with reflections of birth, childhood and teenage years
space of their loved first born.
Pride in their adult child, choices made, successes achieved.
Words, attitudes and body language all communicating in volumes.
Unconditional love.
One with absolute delight walked his daughter up the aisle, watched as she
space left in the safe arms of her new husband. Life unfolding.
One with uncontrollable grief walked down the aisle behind the coffin of his
space son, watched as he was carried on the shoulders of six strong
space head shaven mates. Life closing in.
I know which father I would rather be. Yet God the father lives with the
space experience of the second father, not of the first.
A glimmer for the weeks.
1 comment:
We're still reading. This is a heartbreaking, beautiful reflection. Thanks for sharing it.
Post a Comment