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gift I could . . . the truth."
"It's the most beautiful gift of all. Thank you . .
. Father." I stood up to embrace him. We held each
other tightly, and when we parted, he kissed me on the
cheek.
"Go now and live, free of all the shadows." He
shook Luke's hand.
"Love and cherish her as your father came to
love and cherish Heaven,"
"I will."
"Good-bye."
"But we'll come to see you, again and again," I
cried.
"I'd like that. It won't be hard to find me. I'll
always be here. My flight from life is over now." He escorted us out and we kissed and embraced
once more. Then Luke and I got into his car. I looked
back once to wave good-bye. The melancholy part of
me made me worry that I would never see him again,
projected me forward to a time when I would return to
a cottage empty but for the unfinished toys. But my
happier, and hopefully stronger, side, shoved the dark
pictures away and replaced them with images of an
older Troy, still working on his toys, greeting me and
Luke and our children.
Luke reached across the seat to squeeze my
hand. "Stop at the cemetery one more time, please,
Luke."
"Of course."
After he did, I got out and he and I went to the
monuments. We stood before them silently, holding
