Before Mary's Birthday
His habits have changed little over the years. The twelve and a half mile run is now an eight mile run. The breakfast that used to consist of two cups of coffee has expanded to include toast. After a shower and shave, he still wonders out into the garden behind his Tricorner home. He tends the plants. More importantly, he remembers. The love of a woman lingers here. Amongst the green and growing, the pain of her absence is keenly felt. He thought it would get easier. In a way, it has. Time softens all loses. He misses her still with an ache heartfelt.
Several days before the first birthday of his only granddaughter, Jim Gordon makes a familiar pilgrimage. From the comfort of his garden he travels to the rolling expanse of a cemetery. He maneuvers through the headstones on autopilot until he reaches that which he seeks.
Sarah Essen-Gordon. Honored Officer. Killed in the Line of Duty. Gotham's Finest.
Beloved wife.
He crouches down and places the roses at the base of the marker. They aren't just any roses. They're roses cultivated from the rocky, uncooperative soil of Gotham. Only with daily care and attention did they thrive. Not unlike, he thinks, the most rewarding of relationships.
He sits with her in silence, content this moment to simply be in her presence.
Several days before the first birthday of his only granddaughter, Jim Gordon makes a familiar pilgrimage. From the comfort of his garden he travels to the rolling expanse of a cemetery. He maneuvers through the headstones on autopilot until he reaches that which he seeks.
Sarah Essen-Gordon. Honored Officer. Killed in the Line of Duty. Gotham's Finest.
Beloved wife.
He crouches down and places the roses at the base of the marker. They aren't just any roses. They're roses cultivated from the rocky, uncooperative soil of Gotham. Only with daily care and attention did they thrive. Not unlike, he thinks, the most rewarding of relationships.
He sits with her in silence, content this moment to simply be in her presence.