Forgive

July 23, 2016: Punishment

I did not attend the funeral. A mix of apathy and resentment competed for the reason behind my absence, at least in my own mind. Time passed and my heart grew in parallel to the experiences I lived. I forgot so that I can forgive, but I got it all wrong. As I sat on my rocking chair, by now creaking with every swing, I watched my son chase a butterfly. My old heart began to swell. I saw myself chasing those butterflies, and imagined myself looking up at him in the rocking chair, unaware that I would not attend his funeral. I hadn’t forgotten a thing, and my heart swelled further. I gasped for air as the sight around me blurred thicker and thicker. I wish I saw him catch that butterfly. My punishment for not learning to forgive.

 

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2 thoughts on “Forgive

  1. “As I sat on my rocking chair, by now creaking with every swing” – this sounds to me like nails on a blackboard. “I watched my son chase a butterfly” – this sounded like silence.

    “I gasped for air as the sight around me blurred thicker and thicker.” – sounds painful, anxiety? Panic?

    #misophonia

    Like

    • Always interesting to learn about different interpretations. I hear from fiction writers that there is no telling how a reader will interpret what they write, and that is the beauty of it. Thank you for sharing your interpretation.

      Liked by 1 person

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