Garden

As the rain started pouring down outside his window so did the tears that finally escaped his eyes, salty water cascading down his cheeks, while his lungs felt heavy, making it hard to breathe. He had no idea why the tears were finally coming, but he was relieved. His heart had been heavy for months, until this very moment where he finally let go of the pain and revel in what had actually happened.

His wife was sleeping in their bed peacefully, but he could just not find peace so he’d gotten up to walk around their room a bit, finally settling at the desk in front of the large window overlooking the garden. His eyes scanned the dimmed morning view, it was early in the am and he had hardly slept at all. His eyes wandered to the swing set at the far end, he felt the tears well up against him. His heart started beating faster as his breath caught in his throat. His pain turned angry, angry at the world, himself and that swing set.

Rising from the desk he grabbed a sweatshirt and some pants, kissed his wife softly on the forehead and went outside into the garden. The morning dew hung to the grass like glistening orbs, and for just a second he felt oddly calm. Slowly and purposefully he walked towards the swing, feeling a rage inside him building. Something he had never felt before, even for all those months where his heart had felt heavy and his mind was shut off to the world, this rage was something entirely visceral. He was running completely off of instinct. And as the first thud broke the silence of the garden when he smashed an axe into the wooden pillars of the swing, he let out an almost inaudible gasp.

He started chopping furiously at the beams and his tears kept on coming.

“Honey, what are you doing!?!?” his wife yelled as she ran towards him. He looked at her but didn't say a word, then continued to chop at the swing set.

“Honey, please stop. You don’t have to do this!” she scrambled to try and get the axe out of his hands. “I miss her too… Please stop.” She pleaded with him, choking back tears, but he didn't stop.

She finally got a good hold of him from behind, trying the best she could to stop him from swinging the axe, and she could feel his body shaking with sobs. She squeezed him as tight as she could, trying to lend him her strength, and as she was gripping him tightly, he slowly stopped swinging. Instead he fell to his knees, crying, she fell with him and rocked them both back and forth.

Still choking back her tears as she tried to stay strong for him, she said: “She will always be a part of us, and we can choose to mourn her or celebrate the time we were blessed with.” He shook visibly with the mention of mourning and she grabbed onto him even tighter.

“You will always be her father and she your daughter.”