One Shots For You

Original Story: Looking Through The Windowsill

   As I open my eyes to the morning sun, I am greeted by the beautiful melody that is sung by the birds outside. It was tranquil, serene, and absolutely beautiful.

   As I stretch out my hand throughout the sheets, I am painfully reminded that this bed no longer held the wife I had once cherished, for so many decades. I had lost her years ago, in childbirth.

   As I struggle just to get up from bed, I feel pain and exhaustion taking over my entire body, for this too, was a reminder to me. A reminder that I no longer am as young as I used to be, for my "youth" had left me long ago.

   I was an old man, now in my seventies, and even walking became more of a struggle to me. For every step, I took felt more like a marathon and less like a simple stroll.

   I lived in a simple log home, simple and small but it was also empty and lonely. And as I look around, I can still see vivid moments of me and my beloved, of when we were still together.

   I walk across the house and from the corner of my eye I can see a picture laying on top of some furniture. I grab hold of it and smiled at what I see. The image showed a small girl with her back turned to the camera holding a stuff teddy bear, one given to her by me since her birth. And by some form of coincidence or miracle, she gave it the same name as her mother, without ever knowing.

   I looked to see my dear, precious daughter, and how she once was so long ago. And as I close my eyes, "I remember her smile, and the teddy bear she kept next to her. How much she's changed since she was six is... insane..."

   She had always been a timid child, preferring to always stay within the protection of the house rather than to leave and explore what the world had to offer. She would always say, "Why would I explore the world when I can explore your stories."

   It had never been easy to get her to socialize with other children her age, it was more of a mission than a challenge. In that aspect, I believe the bear played a crucial role in changing my dear child.

   For she would always confine everything to him as if "she" were alive and would indulge in "long" conversations as if "she" were speaking back. I had always considered "her" an ally in that respect, watching over my precious whenever I couldn't and for that, I thank "her".

   I once more opened my eyes and placed the photo down, leaving to meet with my only companion in this empty house that I live in. And as always, there "she" was sitting by the windowsill, staring off into the distance as if waiting for something to come or rather.... someone.

   As I sat down next to the stuffed bear, careful not to disturb "her", I to look out into the distance. My precious was no longer a child but a strong, dependable woman in her mid-thirties. She had a respectable husband and two wonderful children and although it has been quite some time since she has visited me, I know it is only natural with her now living her own life.

   But I can't help but wonder at times, "did I do enough," "did I do everything I could to raise her," "was there anything I could've done better?" For like all loving fathers, I simply wished the very best for my child, for we would give to them the very moon and stars if they so asked us to. And in the end, if that is too great of a task for us then we would simply die trying.

   So as I sit here looking out through the window, I wonder to myself, "Did we do good?" And at that moment, a voice I had never once heard before through my seventy years of living speaks to me saying, "We did."

   I'm startled, but it was as if I knew... as if I knew where the voice was coming from. For instead of looking throughout the house franticly looking for some sort of intruder, I simply turned to my right and stare at the stuffed toy. As if knowing that it was "her" who had just spoken.

   But before I could indulge in the idea, the sound of a parking car could be heard and I once again looked through the windows to see a beautiful woman with long golden hair with two young boys by her side, coming to pay this old man a visit.

   At that moment, a smile traced my lips and I knew that my "ally" was indeed correct. "Yeah, we did good."