I reluctantly saw my son off today. I have been replaying our conversation over and over. He had been talking about this trip for years, how he was going to ride his bike around this beautiful country of ours. I said he needed more than just this. He had all the gear he said he would need. I reminded him constantly that the world was a dangerous place for a young man. He told me he would write often, as he kissed my forehead. He reassured me he would be fine, and then rode off towards his dreams. What else could I have said, knowing now that it was my last time to see him, my darling son? After he was out of sight I called for Tom, the help around the farm since my husband had passed a couple years back. I thought maybe he was out back feeding the hogs.
I rounded the back porch only to be startled by Tom, standing
there waiting for me, next to his ’65 fairlane with that silly rocketship
hanging from the rearview mirror. He always loved that thing. asked him what
was the matter, but his reply was the hatchet across my neck. I fell back in
silence and stunned amazement, after all this time, why? I went through the
conversation with my son again; there was nothing I could have said to make him
stay. Oh how I wish he would have stayed
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