Day Eight:
They told me I must rise from my bed, but I refused. I told them sleep is better than wakefulness. At first, they left me, but they returned and with shaking voices told me Aaron insisted that I rise. I sat up…more for their sake than mine.
They urged me to wash. Why? What is the point of washing? I am alone. My wife is gone…has been gone for many years. My son…my youngest has gone too…or so they say. My son…my oldest is present and yet absent. We see each other at dinner…and then we hardly speak. He has told me he does not want to hear me speak about Benjamin…so I remain silent. I have nothing else to say as I have nothing but Benjamin on my mind all day and night. I carry him in my heart as I carried him in my arms when he was a defenceless babe. I cannot abandon him now…how can I? If I abandon him, he will cease to exist in my ever shrinking world.
They urged me to eat. I have no appetite. Food cannot fill the emptiness that hangs heavily within me and gnaws at me from within. I have no taste. My tongue feels swollen in my mouth. I drank a sip of water.
I am clothed…but I feel naked. I feel exposed. More than exposed. I feel like I have been cleaved open with a butcher’s cleaver laying bare the very essence of my being. Those around me turn away…as one would turn away from a person stripped of all dignity.
I am breathing, but it feels as if I cannot get enough air into my lungs. An enormous, invisible weight seeks to prevent my chest from expanding.
Will someone not speak his name? Anyone…?
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