An old man shuffled into the packed house, muttering to himself softly. He weaved through the hushed crowd as if searching. He stopped a few times and watched people as they cried, whispering words of comfort to each other. He should have stood out as he urgently scuffled around the sedated mourners, but everyone ignored him as if too lost in grief to care. The man seemed to recognize many people, but he never spoke to them instead, stopping to watch, before eventually moving on, continuing his incoherent muttering.
The man suddenly stopped, listening though no one around him was speaking. After a few seconds, he frowned and then said, to no one in particular,
"Of course, I heard what you said but now listen to me. I don't care about your rules or traditions, I have unfinished business here so, no matter what the limitations are I'm going to finish it." The man stopped again and listened "I already told you, neither, I need a third option some way I can get this done, I'm not giving up yet, I just need a little more time..." suddenly he stopped.
A young woman with long red hair was sobbing into the shoulder of a man about her age and cradling a small baby in her arms. She was wearing a short black dress with long sleeves and her hair in a bun with her makeup ruined from her tears.
The old man took a slow step towards her glazing at the child, the woman remained oblivious as he stepped closer cautiously until he was right in front of her.
"Olivia..." he leaned towards the mother and child to put his hand on her arm, at the last second his hand seemed to shift, and he was met with empty air. "Olivia?" He tried again but again missed, glanced off an unseen barrier. The man tried reaching for the child, but he too was seemed shielded. He moved to touch the shoulder of the woman's husband, how had his arms wrapped around her protectively, "Tom?" it was useless. They all remained totally unaware of his presence.
"What are you doing? Why can't they see me? Is this some sick game? You'll let me get this close, but you won't let me say goodbye? Why would you bring me here? Just to torture me?"
"You wanted to see them again. This was the best I could do. I am sorry, but it is too late. I told you, but you refused to listen. Your time is over. You are over. The more you fight this, the harder it becomes." A figure appeared next to him, it's white cloak sharply contrasting the griever's black attire. "What you are trying to do would only bring all of you more pain, you know that."
"Please, I just need more time." The man, growing more desperate reached the family again
"You need to make a decision." the figure said softly as it gently pushed away, the old man's clawing arm.
"I can't just leave them," he said.
"Would they want you stuck here like this? Desperately wishing for something you can't have?"
The man paused, thinking as he gazed towards the young couple and the great-grandchild he would never get to meet. He sighed, suddenly too tired to keep fighting, "Fine." He stepped towards the figure, then stopped. "One last thing," It waited expectantly. "can I know what they named the kid?"
"They named him after you."
The old man nodded, and with a small, pained smile, stepped towards what he decided, in that moment, might as well be an angel. He took its hand, and from their grasp, a bright white glow began to fill the room. The light grew until only their outlines could be seen. If they had been visible to anyone else in the room, the stocky old man gripping onto the tall angelic figure may have looked very much like a young child clinging desperately to his parent. As the light began to fade, the sobs of a babe cut through the still air.
