“How can I be happy now?” She begged.

“Because you had him in your life for all these fifty-nine years!” I told her, “Because you had a father who loved you beyond love and who would tell you as I am that you need to get to your husband and leave your father to his wife. Your husband is at Nigel’s waiting to love and comfort you. Go to him, Carolena. There might be a time one day when you can’t.”

Carolena’s eyes were wide with sudden comprehension. She spent one last hour in the bedroom, sitting beside Oliver with his hand held in hers. She was silent. Sometimes there are not words. Sometimes there is no need for them. Sometimes the still and the silence say more than a person could if they tried.

Carolena left her Daddy, but not because she wanted to. She left because she knew Nigel and I were right. Nigel, her cousin, her oldest and best friend, took her in his arms and walked with her to the car. I saw him take a minute to hold her tight. When he released her, he told her something I could not hear. She nodded and smiled sadly. He helped her into the car and then he took her where she needed to be, back with her husband in the land of the living.

As Oliver failed, Gryffin and Warren sat by his bedside for long hours. Oliver had medication hooked up to an IV in his arm. A push of a button kept him pain free, but it kept him unconscious most of the time as well. Still every once in a while he would look over at them and make a comment like, “If you’re going to hang around, why don’t you go and chop some wood? Make yourselves useful. Clean a dish. Something.”

His sons would laugh. “We’ve chopped all the wood and Mum chases us out of her kitchen. Do you need anything, Dad?”

“Ah, just six or seven organ transplants, Lads. Got a liver?”

It was not long before the jokes stopped. Oliver would lie in that bed moaning and rasping for breath. Only the medication was a comfort to him, but it destroyed his ability to stay awake longer than it took to click the button. He stopped eating and refused a feeding tube. When the final days became obvious, the boys came and went. Seeing their father near death was more than either of them could stand.

I caught Warren outside on the last night pretending he was not crying. “It’s all right,” I told him, “You can cry, you know. No one will think the less of you.”

“If I start I’ll never stop.” He wiped his eyes with his hand.

“You will one day.” I put my hand on his arm, “No one cries forever, Ren. It’s hard to watch him go through this, I know.”

“I can deal with him dying. I just can’t deal with watching him do it. I’m sorry, Mum, but I wish he’d just go. He’s in so much pain and he won’t be getting any better. He’s suffering.” Warren hung his head, “I just need a minute before I go back inside. Gryffin’s talking about having the sick feeling in his stomach. I wish he’d shut his noise. I know this is the end. I don’t need to hear it from him.”

“Why don’t you just go home, Son? It’s late.”

“I just need a minute.”

“No, I think you and Gryffin both need to go for the night.” I patted his shoulder, “I sent Caro a while ago. She tried to argue with me and she lost. So will you. Stay here. I’ll tell Gryff.”

Gryffin didn’t argue with me, but he didn’t want to go either. “There’s blood pooling in his palms, Mum,” He was whispering in the kitchen as if no one else was aware of how dismal the situation was, “He’s not got a long time left.”

“Well, we already knew that.”

“I can’t leave him. He never left me. Not once. Not ever.”

“Helping your father to cross the veil is not your place. That’s mine and Alexander’s. What I need you to do now is take your brother someplace where he can deal freely with how he’s feeling. Please, he’s about to split at the seams. I can’t take care of everyone right now, Gryff. There’s nothing you can do for your dad, but you can take care of your brother for me.” I saw him hesitate, “Please, I need you to look after Warren for me.”

He nodded reluctantly. “I will, Mum.”

“Thank you, Muffin,” I had to stand on the tip of my toes to hug my son. My boys were both tall like their dad, who had been a head taller than most. I kissed Gryffin on his cheek and held him tight.

“Are you sure you don’t need me here?” He asked me seriously.

“You and your constant worrying, Child!” I patted his shoulder, “No, I’ve got Alexander and Lucy. I’ll be fine.”

Before they left, Warren and Gryffin went to their father.

“Dad,” Warren leaned over Oliver and kissed him on the cheek, “I’m going for a little while. Before I do, I want to tell you thank you. I’m not good with what I want to say, but thank you for everything, for all of it. I thank God you’re my father.”

He moved aside for Gryffin, who kissed Oliver’s forehead, “Ours was a happy childhood because of you, Dad, and we’re happy men because you showed us how to be. Thank you for all the laughs. I’ll keep you always. In my heart and thoughts. I’ll never forget all you taught me.”

Oliver didn’t open his eyes. I am sure that he was not able. “Thank you,” He barely whispered, “For being my sons.”

“We love you, Dad,” Warren’s voice broke.

“No words, Renny. I already know.” He drew a rattling breath, “I love you both. I’m just so, so tired. I just want to sleep.”

“Do that then,” Gryffin took a step back, “Go to sleep now. We’ll see you again. In time, Dad. We’ll see you again in time.”

If Oliver heard him he made no response.

After they left the cabin, my sons stood out in the front lawn for a long time with their arms around each other’s shoulders and their foreheads pressed together. When they had finally collected themselves, Gryffin did what I asked and he took his brother home.

Natalie appeared with Mickey about an hour later. She was checking on us all, making sure that we were managing. She’d brought over a shepherd’s pie and bottles of cold water. “A late supper is better than not eating at all,” She kissed Lucy on the cheek, “I know none of you are much up for cooking, Mummy.”

“You’re so sweet,” Lucy whispered, “Your dad is in with Oliver. Go say hello. They’ll both be happy to see you.”

“Is Ollie awake?”

“He’s in and out. Go. He’ll know you’re there.”

Natalie sat with Alexander at Oliver’s bedside for a while, her arm wrapped in her father’s. Alexander stared at his brother and patted his daughter’s hand.

“Nattie?” Oliver woke after a time.

“Hi, Ollie,” She bent beside the bed and kissed his cheek. He opened his hand and caught hers. He whispered something I couldn’t hear and Natalie laughed while drawing back her tears.

“Thank you, I will,” She smiled down at him, “I promise.”

He held her hand for a moment longer before the medicine took over and he let her go.

“Will you three be OK, Auntie Sil?” She whispered to me later as she prepared to leave, “Should Mickey and I stay?”

“No, Nattie Muffin,” I had to smile at her. It was impossible not to. Even in her late fifties Natalie still kept the innocent, doll-like face she’d always possessed. “You two go home.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Nattie, please. Go home and sleep in your bed with your husband.”

She got my meaning.

Annie and Bess called afterward, intending on coming by, and spoke to their mother, who told them as well that there was no reason for them to look after us. After Lucy hung up, the cabin was silent. It was just a nurse, Alex, Lucy and I who remained. None of us spoke a word.

Oliver refused to die. I could hear murmurs coming from the bedroom. Every so often he’d respond to them, but I couldn’t understand what he said. I knew he was with the Lord and the Lady. I wished I understood what words they spoke and I hoped that the Lady had some magic to comfort him the way she had me when she had asked the winds to make me sleep. I hoped that she could help him find freedom from his pain because I could not.