How am I to go on without you? What am I to do now? Why should I live at all? Tears streamed down his cheeks, leaving a cold emptiness inside hima gaping hole where his heart once beat.
Edward had loved Emily from the moment he saw her, back at school. She was small, delicate, with a scattering of auburn freckles across her nose. He first noticed her in year six, and even then, he was head-over-heels in love.
Emily was three years his junior, always at the top of her class, quietly intelligent and shy. The more he watched her growhopping with her friends in the playground, light as a butterfly, her laughter sparklingEdward wished, in that naïve way of youth, that one day they would marry.
When at last he returned from his national service, the first thing he did was call on Emily, carrying flowers and preparing to formally ask for her hand.
Emilys father was a stern, proper man. He took Edward aside for a grave conversation, but when they returned to the sitting room, it was with a warm handshake that he gave Emilys hand to Edward.
The wedding was a grand affairguests travelling even from the far corners of Sussex, filling the old church with warmth and merriment for three full days. Emilys eyes gleamed with happiness; Edward was puffed with pride, certain there was no finer bride anywhere in the county.
Within two years, with both families help, Edward had built them a house of their own. Emily was over the moon, especially since, three months before their first child was due, they moved in properly together.
A daughter was born, and they named her Alice after Emily’s grandmother. Alice was hearty and rosy-cheeked, but the birth took a toll on Emily that she could never quite shake.
For a whole year after Alices birth, Emily was pale and seemed only half-alive. Edward took her to the best doctors in London, but they could only shrug and say she needed time, that her strength would return, eventually.
Then, when Alice was barely eighteen months old, Emily learned she was expecting again. The doctors advised her to end the pregnancy, warning her body was far too weak, that she might not carry the baby, or worse, might not survive at all.
Edward and the doctors tried to convince her, but Emily was resolute.
I will not end the life of my child! Shes done nothing to deserve such a fate. Whatever is meant to happen will happen, she would say. Gods will be done!
The final month was especially hardEmily stayed in hospital, while Alice waited at home, growing restless, and Edwards worry seemed to settle heavy and black upon him.
He felt the shadow of tragedy growing closer. And when the time came, his fears proved true. Emily did not survive the birthher heart simply stopped. But she left twin daughters behind, perfect and remarkable, if motherless.
Edward was inconsolable. At the churchyard, he gazed upon the fresh, black earth, his eyes vacant and distant.
All their shared moments flooded before himthe laughter, the joy, her smile, the echo of her voice still ringing in his mind. Overcome, he crumpled to his knees and wept, wild and uncontrolled as a wounded animal.
How am I to go on without you? What am I to do now? Why should I live at all? Tears streamed down his face, and within him, an awful hollow opened upa gaping blackness where his heart used to be.
After the burial, he drank heavily, night after night, desperately trying to drown out her voice and laughter.
Emilys parents took the girls in, believing Edward lost to his grief and unable to care for them. They did not trust he would ever truly come back to himself.
On the fortieth night after Emilys passing, Edward, far gone in drink, fell asleep in the entrance hall. He dreamed: Emily came into the house, wearing a white summer dress, her hair down, those auburn curls shining in the golden morning light.
She stepped up to him, stroked his hair as she did in happier days, and spoke in that gentle, loving way:
Edward, darling, what are you doing? Arent you ashamed of yourself? She narrowed her green eyes playfully, wagging her finger. Your daughters hardly see their fatherthey miss you so. They need you now just as much as you needed me. If you love me still, dont abandon them. Love them as you loved me.
He awoke, his mind suddenly clear. The sunlight, bright and golden, warmed his cheek through the window.
As soon as the sun was truly up, Edward, washed and pressed, made his way to Emilys parents cottage. There was a new seriousness in his bearinga wisdom that made him seem as if fifty years older overnight.
He kissed his mother-in-laws hand in silence, hugged his father-in-law, and brought his girls home to his cottage.
So began the next chapter of their lives, the four of them together. Edward learned to be both father and motherhe mastered the art of casseroles, laundry, and darning.
And when it came to plaiting hair, he rivalled every matron in the village. The girls were praised at schoolthey always excelled, always well-mannered and attentive.
And if anyone dared give them trouble, Edward would appear in an instant, their fierce defender.
Neighbours would often ask Edward, Why dont you marry again? Youre still young and a good-looking man. Look at all the women eyeing you in the village!
He would only smile, surprised at the very thought, and answer, Why, Im married already, you see. My house is already bursting with three young brideswhat would I do with a fourth? I could never keep up!
With such jests and steadfast devotion, with sleepless nights, half-eaten meals, and unending work, Edward raised his three beautiful daughters.
As the girls entered their final years at school, the neighbour woman began to visit, bringing dried mushrooms or smoked herring, and making no secret of her intentions. Edward knew she wouldnt leave him be, but, not wanting to offend, he hit upon an idea.
He invited her one evening, and asked, Which of my daughters do you love best?
She replied, Its not your daughters I want! Theyll all soon leave for university. Arent you going to spend your life alone? Its you I wantnot your girls.
Edward simply smiled, handed her his photograph, and said, Take my portrait home and love me all you like there.
Thus the neighbour left, portrait in hand, but thoroughly defeated.
The girls grew into young women, each going off to university, but never forgetting their father. Every weekend theyd return, helping out around the cottage and garden.
And later, Edward would walk each of his daughters down the aisle. He spoke earnestly with every prospective son-in-law, just as Emilys father had spoken to him. He wished for nothing but happiness for his three princesses.
Now they were women, each with a family and worries of their own, but not one of them ever forgot their father.
At every holiday and on every Sunday, the whole family would descend upon the old cottage in the villagedaughters, grandchildren, and even one rather cheeky great-grandson.
On Edwards eighty-first birthday, he dreamt again.
He stood in a fieldyoung, handsome, his shoulders broad and hair jet black. Running towards him was his dearest Emily! She wore a white dress, bare feet, with sunlight tangled through her hair, glimmering as though anxious to be free.
He opened his arms wide, his heart pounding and trembling with happiness as she reached him. Embracing, she looked up into his eyes and murmured, Edward, my love, youve done so well! Youve given our girls such happiness. I saw it all, and every day I prayed for you from above. She took his hand, gentle as ever.
Come, lets go. Now well be together, always.
Hand in hand, they walked through the lush, green grass.
When Edward passed, his whole family came to the village for the wake. His daughters wept, but they all understood: at last, their father had been reunited with the one he’d loved fiercely, his whole life.
This is the true fate of a once well-known manone with a fathers heart. I heard his story from my own grandmother. Everyone in the village remembered him fondly. Sometimes, a mans greatest happiness is not for himself, but for those he loves. May he rest in peace.
