Breezes/A bit of Fiction on a lazy afternoon

            Lying down on my hammock amongst the groves of apple trees, I have been reliving much better times.  Once again I was daddy’s little angel sitting on his lap distracting him from reading the afternoon paper.  He never really minded, he just pretended to be perturbed, as he would tease me about something or other.  The smell of his after shave, the touch and feel of his “salt and pepper” face, and the softness of the look in his eyes have been with me all of my life. 

            He was assigned to be with the van that led the charge right into enemy territory.  The look of his eyes have never been the same again.  Now a days he sits and stares regardless of what is going on around him.  Mother wheels him through the dinning room of the old farm house and onto the back porch in order to listen to the sweet melody of my brothers guitar as he plays it in the summer breeze.   The notes drift by trying to capture and captivate the memory of the man that was once the center of our world.  

            Having the chance to reflect on the past has helped me to change my future.  The apples have never looked more juicy, ripe, and delicious.  The wind is blowing in a direction that I thought that it never would.  Father is staring not really knowing any of us, but we owe him the life that he gave us to continually love like he did.  As newness of the breeze makes me feel like life could somehow go on, so I will take this as a sign that even my father may come back to us again.