A Story About Dad. Stories To Help You Cope With Loss

2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43

-What's the matter with you, dear? - asked grandmother Lida.

-Scary, granny. Sometimes I can’t sleep,”I replied with a sigh and felt my throat tighten in spasms, as if someone were squeezing it with strong hands.

- Why? - Grandmother raised an eyebrow inquiringly, sitting down at the table opposite me, - Who scared you?

-Tell me about dad, just tell me something, bah. I don’t know why thoughts are about him all the time, every night and all day. I am very sad, I am frightened by the thought that this will always be so - he will not be anymore. Sometimes I get distracted, I rejoice in the sun, meeting a friend and then it seems to me that I am guilty in front of him, that I forget, but should not, should not forget - at that moment I felt a burning sensation in my nose and was embarrassed by the tears that flowed down my cheeks scorching streams. My throat dropped.

-What to tell? - the old woman sighed, wiped her eyes with an apron and continued, - He is a good person, sincere (she stumbled in confusion, not knowing when to tell next - in the present or in the past and continued): he did not say bad words, he helped people what they do not ask, he will take from himself, and will give to others. He was kind, all the kids from the street followed him, and he had a candy in his pocket for everyone. And I didn’t look for a soul in my children. Yes about this, Nastenka, you yourself know, - she looked out the window and, clasping her head in her hands, silently cried.

And I felt so sorry for my grandmother, because she had to bury her husband and son in her life. She, outwardly, is so fragile and weak, but an incredibly strong-willed woman. I cried with her …

Then we looked at the photographs, leafed through old family albums, where the calm faces of relatives unknown to me looked calmly from black-and-white photos. Grandma told about different people, stories, destinies. I listened.

We went to bed late, firewood crackled in the stove, a blizzard howled outside the window, shadows of trees glided along the walls. I could not sleep. Memories floated to my head.

The sun was poured out on the street, a lot of light lay on the snow-covered trees and roofs of houses. Eyes blinded. Dad and I gathered for the fir branches in the forest for the New Year. They took a sled, ropes, a small saw and a small ax. The road is long, about 5 kilometers, there is a lot of snow, you can't go quickly. While we were walking along the cleared roads of the village, it was easier, but we were completely bogged down in the forest. We barely walk, we measure the snow with our boots. We went 500 meters along the trail.

Suddenly in the forest nearby there was a howl and abruptly cut off, it became scary, my heart beat fast, and my body went numb.

-Pp-ap-ah, wolves, - I barely squeezed out in a changed voice, - We cannot run away, because the snow.

-Wait, there were no wolves in the forest, in the summer the hunters shot one, no one else heard or saw. Cattle by the forest were directly knitted. It can't be, - he answered confidently, but he was wary.

We began to listen - silence. But it could not seem to two of them, it was dangerous to go further.

We hurriedly turned back, trying to get into our tracks. And then the howl rang out again, and it seemed that now it sounded closer.

-Wait, - said the father, - I think it's not a wolf, but a dog. Hunters told me that wolves howl evenly, melodiously, and a dog's howl is abrupt, unpleasant, breaking into barking.

- AND? That a wild dog and a wolf are not the same thing, is it? Let's go quickly.

“What if it’s just a dog wandering in, freezing, and now we’ll desert from the forest,” dad laughed.

-And what do you propose to do, - I started to get angry.

There was a barking. Now it became obvious that it was a dog, but which one and why, I did not want to clarify. I would have gone home by now.

-Wait for me here, I'll see, I won't come close.

He broke the stick, took the ax and walked to the side where the sound was coming from. I watched the retreating figure anxiously. It took about 10 minutes, the animal whined loudly, then calmed down. After a while, dad's steps were heard. When he came out of a small ravine and became distinguishable, I saw a bloody sweatshirt in my hands. The steps were slow and heavy.

- What happened? - I rushed to meet.

-It's all right, Nastya. I am whole, the dog got into a trap, his leg was broken.

When I unrolled the package, there was an emaciated dog, stained with blood, and trembling shallowly.

“She needs to go back, she needs help,” Dad said with notes of alarm and concern.

“Yes,” I agreed.

We put the dog lightly on the sled and tied it with ropes. The sledges were loaded, after 40 minutes we got out onto the cleared road.

So Jeff appeared in our family - a cute mongrel of medium height, with long hair and unusually kind eyes. How the dog found himself in the forest, how long the wounded stayed in the cold, remained unknown.

In a dream, I dreamed about dad, for the first time in 2 months after his death, I could not cry, we walked in the forest, talked and laughed. He held my hand …

From somewhere came the confidence that dad would stay with me in my heart, even if he let go of my hand, if I could not hug, talk, ask for protection. Love does not stop (grandmother said, quoting the text of the Bible), love always remains.