Reader Jenna shares a heartbreaking short story based on her memories of her dad, who died four years ago… just beautiful.
Jenna says:
We walk along the strawberry pink path of the park woods, Rosie the dog trotting ahead of us. Birds sing in the trees, making their nests ready for the wintry nights ahead. Forget-me-not flowers litter the emerald grass and in the distance, far behind the chestnut trees, I see turquoise waves crashing on the rocks, splashing people on the golden beach below.
Suddenly, Rosie starts to bark at the little stream that seeps through the woods. She looks at my dad for permission, and at his nod she jumps in with a loud splash, trying to pick up twigs in her mouth without having to put her head in the water. Dad stands by the stream watching her; I walk over to watch too, and after a while we sit down on the banks of the stream. Dad puts his arm around me as he used to do when I was small, and we just sit and watch Rosie. It feels like hours, but I know it's just minutes.
Rosie eventually gets out of the water, shaking her soaking chocolate brown fur so she looks less like a drowned rat. We start walking again, and then Dad starts to jog along with Rosie, getting faster and faster, Rosie running alongside him. I watch them running like birds chasing one another along the pink painted path. I've never seen Dad look so free; like all the roubles in his hard and complicated life have left him, like he is free of the illness that has held him back. He is grinning like he never has before.
Dad slows at last and we walk on together. Dad looks ahead into the distance, like he can see something I cannot. Birds fly above us as we watch and the sound of waves crashing in the distance as we stroll along together, father and daughter reunited after four years apart. And then the pink path gets thinner and thinner, as if it is coming to an end. As I look around, pictures begin to form around me, memories of the good times now gone. In the distance I can see a dim light, and I know what's coming. I turn to Dad, tears in my eyes, and he nods, answering my unspoken question.
'I must go, my time is up,' he whispers, so softly you can barely hear it.
He kisses me gently on the head and pats a now whimpering Rosie. There's a strange white light at the end of the path and as he walks towards it the light gets steadily brighter; then suddenly the light goes out and I am sitting up in bed, Rosie howling at my bedside, reminding me he's gone and will never return.
Cathy says:
I love Jenna's brave tribute to her dad; have YOU ever lost someone close to you? COMMENT BELOW to tell us more, or comment on the story.
Jenna says:
We walk along the strawberry pink path of the park woods, Rosie the dog trotting ahead of us. Birds sing in the trees, making their nests ready for the wintry nights ahead. Forget-me-not flowers litter the emerald grass and in the distance, far behind the chestnut trees, I see turquoise waves crashing on the rocks, splashing people on the golden beach below.
Suddenly, Rosie starts to bark at the little stream that seeps through the woods. She looks at my dad for permission, and at his nod she jumps in with a loud splash, trying to pick up twigs in her mouth without having to put her head in the water. Dad stands by the stream watching her; I walk over to watch too, and after a while we sit down on the banks of the stream. Dad puts his arm around me as he used to do when I was small, and we just sit and watch Rosie. It feels like hours, but I know it's just minutes.
Rosie eventually gets out of the water, shaking her soaking chocolate brown fur so she looks less like a drowned rat. We start walking again, and then Dad starts to jog along with Rosie, getting faster and faster, Rosie running alongside him. I watch them running like birds chasing one another along the pink painted path. I've never seen Dad look so free; like all the roubles in his hard and complicated life have left him, like he is free of the illness that has held him back. He is grinning like he never has before.
Dad slows at last and we walk on together. Dad looks ahead into the distance, like he can see something I cannot. Birds fly above us as we watch and the sound of waves crashing in the distance as we stroll along together, father and daughter reunited after four years apart. And then the pink path gets thinner and thinner, as if it is coming to an end. As I look around, pictures begin to form around me, memories of the good times now gone. In the distance I can see a dim light, and I know what's coming. I turn to Dad, tears in my eyes, and he nods, answering my unspoken question.
'I must go, my time is up,' he whispers, so softly you can barely hear it.
He kisses me gently on the head and pats a now whimpering Rosie. There's a strange white light at the end of the path and as he walks towards it the light gets steadily brighter; then suddenly the light goes out and I am sitting up in bed, Rosie howling at my bedside, reminding me he's gone and will never return.
Cathy says:
I love Jenna's brave tribute to her dad; have YOU ever lost someone close to you? COMMENT BELOW to tell us more, or comment on the story.