After scattering Pascal’s ashes in the fragrant rose garden, Tom replaced the casket lid and stood for a few moments in silent contemplation, listening as nature sang a song of summer with bird voices and insect sounds. It might have been his imagination, but he fancied he caught a hint of sweet violets mingling with the rose scent, like the perfume Eleanor had always worn. It comforted him to think Pascal was reunited at last with his beloved wife.
He entered the house via the sunroom and put the casket away. He then went out into the back garden to find Adam. He was sitting stationary on the old cherry tree swing, his arms hooked around the worn ropes. He glanced up as Tom approached. “Done?”
“It’s done.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t, you know,” Adam swallowed, trying to contain his emotions. “I want to remember him as a whole person, not as a pile of dust.” Tears overflowed. “I miss him, Tom. I miss papa.”
Taking hold of Adam’s hands, Tom pulled him off the swing and into his arms. “I know, my love. I know you do. It’s all right.” He cuddled him, murmuring endearments until the tears stopped. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He wiped Adam’s wet face with his hands. “It’s lunchtime, you need something to eat and drink.”
When lunch was over, Adam ventured upstairs. Going into the master bedroom he sat on the empty bed. Picking up the photo of Eleanor and Pascal he stared at it, grief gnawing at him afresh for people who had shown him the meaning of love, especially Pascal. His memories of Eleanor were of a warm and loving, but relatively brief childhood presence. His grief for her loss had softened over time while his grief for Pascal was raw, as sharp as a knife in his heart. Putting the photo back in place he walked over to the window.
Lost in memories he didn’t hear Tom enter the room, only becoming aware of his presence when an arm slipped around his shoulders. In the garden the cherry tree swing was caught by a sudden gust of wind, which lifted it towards the sky. Adam imagined he heard a ghost of boyish laughter as it swung back and forth. Turning his sights heavenward, a strange peace descended on him. Somewhere out there his mama and papa were waiting. He would see them again. The certainty of it hit him like a ray of light striking the earth from behind a cloud.
One day they would all be reunited. Papa’s hands would reach out to take his hands and help him cross the great divide. He would see his much loved face and look into his eyes again, but not yet. This was his time to live, to trust and to love in the way he had been made to love. Curling an arm around Tom’s waist he leaned against him. “I’m glad you’re here with me. I love you.”
Smiling, Tom drew Adam closer to his side, gazing out into the garden where Eleanor and Pascal’s love sang to them from a sky of summer blue.
End