at your funeral I was so upset, in your life you were larger than this, statuesque
Thanksgiving had been days ago. New York was cold, and the funeral-goers were dressed appropriately for the weather and the occasion. They murmured and huddled but she did not see or hear them. The cold bit at her face and hands, but if it bothered her at all, she didn't show it. She was focused on the monument in front of her.
It seemed so miniscule for a man who was so extraordinary.
The pomp and circumstance of the military honors were over, though the gunshots still echoed in her chest as if they had been shot directly in her.
She wondered what his last moments were like. Was it quick? Did it hurt? Was he scared?
There was so much she didn't know, and there was now so much she would never know.
She would never know anything but what Angela and Peter could offer--short, quick mentions of him before their voices shook and the topic was changed. She would never know if he would have attended her college graduation, or what his college days were like, or what his hopes and dreams were for the future.
She would never know if she could love him like a father. It always seemed as if there would be time for that later. She always thought they'd have more time.
Instead, she would know how much hindsight hurt. She had made her peace with her biological mother, able to say her goodbyes and tell her she loved her before the end. Her biological father, however, was now an unfinished chapter. But that book was shut--it had been, for months.
Nathan had helped change the future. Maybe it would have been possible to change it further, to spend holidays and birthdays and enjoy each others company when the world wasn't falling apart and their parents lying to them, but it was another thing that Claire would not know.
It seemed so miniscule for a man who was so extraordinary.
The pomp and circumstance of the military honors were over, though the gunshots still echoed in her chest as if they had been shot directly in her.
She wondered what his last moments were like. Was it quick? Did it hurt? Was he scared?
There was so much she didn't know, and there was now so much she would never know.
She would never know anything but what Angela and Peter could offer--short, quick mentions of him before their voices shook and the topic was changed. She would never know if he would have attended her college graduation, or what his college days were like, or what his hopes and dreams were for the future.
She would never know if she could love him like a father. It always seemed as if there would be time for that later. She always thought they'd have more time.
Instead, she would know how much hindsight hurt. She had made her peace with her biological mother, able to say her goodbyes and tell her she loved her before the end. Her biological father, however, was now an unfinished chapter. But that book was shut--it had been, for months.
Nathan had helped change the future. Maybe it would have been possible to change it further, to spend holidays and birthdays and enjoy each others company when the world wasn't falling apart and their parents lying to them, but it was another thing that Claire would not know.