He didn’t listen any longer; he couldn’t. Was this how it was going to end? After all his sacrifices and..
– he paused-
No, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
Upon entering his home, he fell to his knees; crying.. weeping.
The door behind him opened. Silena was whispering reassuring words, “It’ll be alright. It will eventually be OK.”
“How can you be so sure?” he exclaimed, “It is not in your hands. And even more so, it is not in mine. What are we going to do?”
She sighed. Kneeling down beside him, she stroked his arm and kissed his right hand tenderly.
“I am sorry. I am so sorry.”
“I know.. I am too.” he said, playing with her hair.
She was not used to seeing him hurting so badly. It aroused an array of emotions within her; the one that undoubtably stood out was concern. “Will he be able to go through it.. again? What can I do?”
With a million and one thoughts going through her mind, she got off the floor and walked to her room. She knew she was helpless, but felt the need to do something; anything to relieve him of his pain. She knew it was going to hit him hard. All she could do was ask God for strength- for both.
In a way these few seconds had brought them closer than they had ever been. She didn’t think it possible; but seeing him so weak, so frail had impacted her, and she knew she needed to be there for him. Things had changed in an instant.
The next months would be tough but beautiful. Feeling reassured, she sighed- eventually, it would all be alright.
He too walked into his room and for the first time felt relieved. He hadn’t felt this way in a while. He felt a sudden injection of life and hope. He would not give up now. He had come too far..
It had been a month.
Looking around, there stood members of the family and church, friends and even some former colleagues.. Everyone she ever knew, everyone she dearly loved. Many quiet, some in shock, a handful shedding silent tears. They hadn’t all known.
“To Selma, mother, daughter, and friend. Woman of the purest blood.”
He held his daughter’s hand tightly- he would not let her go, not leave her side.. not until then. Just as he had held his beloved’s hand to the last, he would hold hers. He sighed, quietly thanking God for health and strength- both mentally and physically. He understood it was a gift.
Reading her father’s thoughts, the 12-year-old girl smiled. And although she knew his pain was only temporarily put on hold, she felt at ease. God would give him strength to go through it.. one more time. There were but a few more months and she did not wish to spend them with anyone other than her father.
The stranger who had found her mother on the streets- injured and abused.
The man who took both in, committing himself to care for a child that was not his own.
The one whose heart was soft, whose eyes were sincere, whose knees were marked with scars.
The only person who cared to take them in- not fearful of catching the deadly virus they both carried within.
Once again, it’s December 1: World AIDS Day!
Join in showing support and Wear the BADGE
Furthermore, I encourage you to be in the know and take the test!
Have I taken it? I have indeed! It’s always good to know 😉
P.s.: Check out an absolutely amazing poem I just read; written by Olatoxic: “I am to Blame“