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i have loved and lost in your name, broken to dust and reshaped by your hands. you destroyed the cruel shell i wore, the rot that filled my soul, and from that wreckage, you carved something tender and whole.
now life is lighter, by grace, through faith i walk this world, because of you.
≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪
H I M
It was a quiet evening at Hilltop, the light a fading shade of lilac as the day met twilight. I leant against the back porch railing and took deep breath, admiring the calm atmosphere of the settlement, knowing inside my home was nothing but chaos.
Fortunately, the only mayhem in my life was the good kind, the busy kind. It was not the disarray of war or starvation or death that I had lived with so long ago. It was the simple frenzy of normalcy, and on that particular day there had been certain havoc over my daughter's birthday.
Community gatherings were always made bigger than necessary; the feeling of wholeness, of society, (and an excuse to drink) being the reason behind. The party had gone well and the guests didn't leave too much of a mess. My father had stolen the show by giving the present of a bike, a small silver radio flyer, one I'm sure he spent months searching for on many different runs.
It was ironic, as my father had a difficult time accepting Eleanor's pregnancy in the beginning. Now he parades my daughter around on his shoulders, let's her call him Papa, sings to her songs he sang to me as a young child. He's always telling Eleanor and I that we're doing a good job but back when he found out he wouldn't even look at her, the pregnant girl, and barely acknowledged me, the impregnanter who was to blame. We had been so young at the time and thinking of us as soon-to-be parents probably overloaded his already full list of things to worry about. He eventually warmed up to the idea but it wasn't until our daughter was born and Michonne brought him in to see her, to hold her, that he fully took on the role of grandfather. He kissed the baby, then Eleanor, then me with tears in his eyes. Happy tears that I had never seen before, he wasn't one to be so overjoyed her wept. He said he was proud of us. I had done nothing for him to be proud of, if anything, Eleanor deserved all the praise.
