“I want that balloon, pappy.” I hear her clamorous voice across the garden. I’ve heard it somewhere before. She’s pulling a man, with slothlike pace and an arched back, behind her. With a ragged smile he buys the balloon and gives it to her, bending with great efforts.
“Old man.” I snigger. Resuming on my way, I glance at my reflection on a car window. Ironically, my face looks much older than her Grandpa. Atleast he has his grandchild. I give a sad nod & sit on the edge of a bench obscured from the bright sunlight due to the untrimmed bushes. My daily spot to spend time with myself.
I wasn’t always so alone. Even I had a family– family, even the word makes me ache.
Let’s focus on the brighter part of my life, shall we? I brought up my father’s business, turned it into an empire. An empire the world would remember for ages, but will I? I’ve never had much of a competition, humans are too naïve. It only took me a blink of an eye to understand business. Yes, that’s an exaggeration, but what do you care? I’ve been the richest man of my nation & I still am.
Then why am I sitting alone talking to myself, you’d wonder. It’s because I’ve lost my greatest wealth. Something that the digits on my bank account can’t buy, never.
I still wonder, though, who shall I blame? For I’ve done everything to keep my family together. Bought an enormous mansion for my 4 children and their kids to live happily.
Their kids, yes, they’re the ones liable for the destruction! They’ve ruined everything.
Funny how those spoilt new generation teenagers caused me such pain. I loved them as much that girl’s grandpa loves her. I’ve seen the two of them somewhere before, maybe they know me from the newspapers. Now the grandpa is chatting with his croonies while she is playing with her friends.
The annoying birds are starting to chirp in a higher tone. If I block it out, as always, I’ll find my peace. The St. Maedhog’s garden has been my haven since the time I lost my family.
I sigh. Why do I still fondle on these thoughts? I do not know. Maybe my wife is right. I was blind in my work.
I should had realize that myself when I gave my eldest son a sports car on his 20th birthday to convince him drop out of the college and help me in business, instead. Looking at the luxuries I provided them with, my children happily joined me.
But it were them, their children, who had to live their own life. Out of the care of my wings. I didn’t have any problems with that, they could of course live the life they wanted, but working under other people who are my rivals? That’s absurd! Why have I earned so much? And for whom?
I feel my heartbeat rising, the vein on forehead tightening with every breath. I need to calm myself. Deep breaths.
After a minute of relaxation, the noise of chirping bird returns, a less annoying than before.
Why should I stress myself now? I almost laugh. That’s something I haven’t done for a zillion years. I take a look at the Grandpa and the girl, Karen is her name I recall, returning home with a balloon in one hand and her grandpa’s finger in the other.
I struggle to remember how my grand sons and daughters used to look and sound when we played together. A wave of guilt passes over me. I’ve never played with them.
It’s all futile now, cause I know I’ll return home with the guilt & imagining situations about how I could had stop them from leaving me & made them happy to live with their Pappy.
I stand up, ready to leave. The birds are still chriping but now it’s a melody. Or is it just mind who’s found happiness in them? Yes, that’s what it is. Cause in the end what remains with me, is my empire, this never ending cycle of every morning and my incurable amnesia.
©The Honest Fabler
©Cover credits- Google Images.