• 08:00:00 am on January 5, 2012 | 9
    Tags: , , , , ,

    January 5th –

    Keats: “That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim:” (Ode To A Nightingale)

    Take Me to My Angel

    “Mommy says you drink too much.” Little Colby tugged on my slacks as if the sight of my dress socks was too much for his small eyes to take in.

    “Your Ma doesn’t know what’s good for your Grand Papa,” I shook my foot in hopes that the tot would learn to cease tugging on my trousers, “Let me tell you something kid.”

    He was all ears and wide doe eyes waiting for my revelation. And BOY was it a revelation that took me years to learn.

    “You ever see your Nana?” I already knew the answer. Of course he hasn’t ever seen his Nana, even his Ma’s never seen his Nana.

    “No.” Colby extended the O-sound long and exaggerated.

    “Your Nana was an angel.”

    “My Daddy calls Mommy that.”

    “Of course he does kid but your Ma is only half angel and she proves that to me every day she tries to take away your Grand Papa’s medicine.” The kid pulls down my sock to my ankle and I wondered what my daughter’s been teaching him; nothing but lies and ways to disparage his Grand Papa.


    “That’s what it is,” I took another swig of the elixir, “This is what’s going to bring me back to my angel. You see she couldn’t stay here on Earth for long but with a little hemlock I can be the man I used to be.

    Now go get your Ma. It won’t be much longer now.”

    I could see her bright silver eyes beaming at me already. The smell of lavender whiffed under my nose like candy. She always smelled like fresh spring time. As the door swung open squeaking I remembered that I didn’t go to the store for the oiler but all of that didn’t matter anymore.

    “Dad!” I heard my daughter’s voice cry out before my chest clenched up and I could feel my body falling from the porch chair.

    I’m coming my Angel.


    And here are the other links to the rest of the participants!

    Don’t forget to stop by and give them a shout out and they will do the same! I will be going through everyones entries over the weekend and commenting on them all, myself.


    Still time to sign up or if you miss the deadline just let me know and I’ll add your blog address here and in my next posting to let the others know!




  • Rebecca Clare Smith 9:32 am on January 6, 2012 | # | Reply

    Somehow both warm and yet sad.

  • Charles W Jones (@ChuckWesJ) 5:54 pm on January 6, 2012 | # | Reply

    Sweet story, I actually got a tear at the end. (I hate you for that Glitterlady 🙂

  • Lara Schiffbauer 8:13 pm on January 6, 2012 | # | Reply

    I agree with Rebecca – I was so conflicted about what to feel! Well done.

  • Emilia Quill 5:31 pm on January 7, 2012 | # | Reply

    Made me tears well up in my eyes. Sad that he’s chosen to die yet, he loves her enough to join her.

  • David A Ludwig 6:32 am on January 9, 2012 | # | Reply

    Is this a bad time to bring up that I don’t think he will get to see her since that sounds like suicide and auto-damnation?

    Love that you conveyed it with a conversation between the grandfather and the kid. Also love the family with the celestial bloodline when the original angel wasn’t able to stay on Earth. And finally I love him explaining it as medicine.

  • Nellie 2:08 pm on January 9, 2012 | # | Reply

    I agree that it is a sad story but it shows that he can’t live/doesn’t want to be without her.

  • NIGHTGALE Ep 2 of 4 – A Moment « glitter word 9:01 am on January 12, 2012 | # | Reply

    […] can read last weeks Nightgale challenge HERE – Through […]

  • Rebekah Loper 10:52 pm on January 14, 2012 | # | Reply

    look, I’m finally getting around to reading blog posts! 😀

    I like this story. It’s sad, and all too real. Who knows many men have drunk themselves into the beyond because of heart break . . .

  • Margaret (charitygirlblog) 8:14 pm on January 27, 2012 | # | Reply

    Oh this is beautiful – I can’t believe I only just read it. I think this is my favourite out of all the stories of yours I have read. Bittersweet, wonderful.

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