This is a piece I wrote many moons ago, I hope you like it. Feel free to post a comment on it. We’re Coming Home By Dale R Belcourt The old man woke up from a dream-filled sleep and seeing that the snow was falling again he figured they better get out before it got too high to walk through. Recalling the dream, his face became rivers and crevices of pain and sorrow. He missed them all, especially her. (How long has it been?) It seemed like only yesterday, but he knew it had to be a few years now. Wiping the moistness from the wrinkles around his eyes, with his scarred and bent fingers, he felt different today, as if something special was going to happen. Upon feeling the bed move ever so slightly, he smiled, as he looked to his side and saw his old companion, “Old Dawg”. They were both past their prime and the last of the family. Smelling the coffee, he knew that it was time to get up and greet a new day. (I wonder what it will be like today.) It had always been the same time, so he didn’t need to check the clock. He never bothered to change the timer on the coffee maker. What was the point, he didn’t remember how to anyway, so it is as it was when she left them. Rolling off the bed, right into his slippers, he hobbled over to the other side; he had to make sure the steps were in place so Old Dawg could get off the bed. As he made his way slowly to the kitchen he had to stop a few times to let Old Dawg catch up. They both had aching old bones, but he knew Old Dawg was worse off than he was. (I wonder who will be first to go, him or me? I hope we go together, so there will be no more sadness for either of us). They both sat down or rather he sat and Old Dawg plopped down, and ate their breakfast. While he ate, he again thought of the dream. He could see her, still fussing the kitchen, preparing food for the three of them. Laughing at how Old Dawg, (I wonder when I started calling him Old Dawg?) would push his bowl all over the floor trying to get at the last piece of food. As the tears ran unashamedly down the creases on his old skin he remembered that time he phoned her after getting Old Dawg and told her, We’re coming home, she had laughed and said, Hurry up you old fool. Supper is on the table and it is getting cold! He came out of his thoughts when he felt the cold and rough tongue of Old Dawg on his hand. Looking down into his eyes, that were once dark brown, but are now clouded with age, it seemed as though Old Dawg was also sad and tired. “Yes, Old Dawg, soon we will be feeling much better, you just wait and see. For now though, how about we go sit on the couch and rest up some more before we go to the park?” (Yes, Old Dawg, neither one of us can wag our tails much these days, eh?) He would have preferred to sit on the easy chair but he knew that if he did he might not be able to get back up from it. It did happen once, the other day he thought, and if it wasn’t for Old Dawg, he might have been still sitting there. (Who would have thought that Old Dawg would know to put his weight on the footrest and help me up? For that matter, how did he get the energy to even get his old body up that high?) “Old Dawg, you may have saved me from having to sit in a very wet seat that day! Heh heh!”) Hearing Old Dawg moan roused him from his nap, (My God, it is already 11:00 o’clock, time was when my naps were only ten maybe fifteen minutes, not three hours!) and he lovingly gave him a pat on the head. “They say you are supposed to let sleeping dogs lie, but in your case Old Dawg, you may not get up if I let you stay like that eh? Come on, let’s get dressed.” Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized that his whole image now fit into the mirror. (Time was when I had to stoop to see if I had my hat on!) Looking at Old Dawg he asked, “Remember that time I had asked her where in tar nation was my hat? She had smiled and said, “Old fool, bend down and look on the top of your head! “Hearing Old Dawg moan, he realized that he was getting lost in time again, so he just said, “Let’s go.” Walking to the park was harder and longer each time they went. “I wonder if they move the park just a little father each day, just to fool us, eh, Old Dawg?” Arriving at the park they headed to the same bench they had always sat on. It too, had the old and weathered look to it. After sitting, or rather falling onto the bench, he tried to help Old Dawg onto the bench but he no longer had the strength to do so. (How am I going to get you up here, you can’t stay on the cold ground?) A middle-aged man was walking by, and seeing the problem, helped out. He told the old man that he was on his way to get a puppy for his wife. The old man looked at the stranger and smiled. He said to him that he would grow to love the dog and he will be his for all time, a companion for the rest of his life. The stranger looked at him and thought that was kind of strange since he wasn’t getting the dog for himself. (The old man must be losing it, he thought). The stranger said his goodbyes but first told him he would stop by and show him the puppy. The old man looked down at Old Dawgs’ head, which was resting on his lap, he laid his hand gently upon that big, old head and said, “We probably won’t see him again, but I bet the puppy will look just like you when you were young.” Old Dawg looked up and gave a long exhausted sigh as if to say “I’m too tired to care but you are probably right.” Still looking at Old Dawg the old man also sighed, “Yes, I am tired myself Old Dawg. Maybe we should go home now, eh?” Seeing that Old Dawg had his eyes closed the old man figured that maybe they could stay awhile longer. Still with his hand on Old Dawgs’ head, the old man bent his neck down until his chin rested on his sunken chest and closed his eyes. As they both took their last breath the old man thought, (Yes, We’re coming home!). The stranger on his way back, saw the flashing lights on the ambulance, and was suddenly saddened. He knew the old man would have liked the puppy because it was just like his. He heard the ambulance attendant say that the old man must have really cared for the dog. Even in passing, he didn’t let go of the old dog. The stranger thought that maybe it wasn’t just the old dog he hadn’t let go of. With that thought still fresh in his mind, he phoned his wife. He was about to tell her that he was on his way home but feeling the bundle of fur, which he was going to call “Dawg”, squirming in his jacket, he said, “We’re coming home!” she laughed and said, “Hurry up! you old fool, supper is on the table and it’s getting cold.”
Posted on: Fri, 23 Aug 2013 00:00:21 +0000
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