The Lighthouses Tale

September 1957

The winds howl around me, leaving me feeling emptier than ever before. I've been alone for years now. The sound of the waves crashing endlessly and the silence of time between storms has become eternal. I have no choice, I just can't leave. I'm grounded on this island, here, this is where I stand. I am alone, with the emptiness, to wait for someone to save me from it.

An older man had lived with me for some time. He had grey hair that, for the most part, was gone. He always walked with a cane and wore glasses that inevitably slipped down to the rim of his nose. His wife was always at his side, holding onto his arm, as they trudged down the road toward me. They were happy. He told her stories of his children, and how their laughter lit up the room, and his heart. His wife would smile and listen as her husband rambled for hours and hours, but she never interrupted; she knew this was far too important for him.

Then one day his wife wasn't with him anymore. The happy smile that was always on his face had disappeared, and after that he'd began to tell me his stories. One time he had told me that when he would pass, which I hoped wasn't soon, he would give me away to his son. That way I could still remember him, even when he was gone. I wondered what his son was like, was he like his father? Was he kind? Would he become my friend? The old man cried when he told me about his children, and I could tell they meant the world to him. Sometimes he'd just hold the picture of them over his heart and beg for forgiveness. It was heartbreaking seeing him hurt, and knowing that there was nothing I could do to help him.

On the day of his death, a huge storm brewed over the sea, and the winds were louder than they had ever been. "Today's the day, old friend." The old man's rough voice was softer than normal, and his walk was slower...weaker. He stood at the top of me, staring out into the vast waters. The lightening was striking down violently hitting the water with bright flashes, instantly disappearing.

"I'm going to miss you." His voice was soft and I held onto his words, this small moment in time that would pass as quickly as all the others. He coughed violently, like he usually did nowadays, and it took him some time to recover before speaking again. "You're all I have left you know, my family hasn't spoken to me in years, my wife... has passed and now it's just you and I."

The quietness overwhelmed us, and for a moment the wind that howled around ceased to be beautiful anymore, but instead was terrifying. "And now I must leave you. And I'm so sorry."

I wanted to reply. I wanted to cry out with him, and hold him and remind him that it was okay, we would be okay.

The old man stared out into the sea, letting the ocean breeze caress his face. We were both silent, the winds had stopped now and the only noise was the gentle sound of his breath. "Once I'm gone, you won't be alone for long. I promise."

And then he leapt. It was so fast that I hadn't realized he'd even gone. All I knew was that in that moment, I had never felt more alone.

Alas, I am still here, weathering the winds and fighting storms as they pass over the bay. As every boat passes, I feel myself becoming less hopeful. Will I be alone for long? Is anyone ever going to show up and be the keeper of me... the lighthouse.