What more need I say? I rejoice to return to the good graces of my sons' families.
Nothing could be sweeter than to be rejoined to them after so many bitter years of self-enforced absence. The parable has been literally fulfilled in my life. In my case, I am ready for the feast with my sons, only hoping that it is not too late in our lives to kill the fatted calf and still enjoy and make merry together with some of the fruits of the best things in life.
It has been a bittersweet reward. The reminder of days past and opportunities lost haunts me with guilt and shame and recrimination. I suffer from these feelings, for one, in the form of a recurring nightmare that I re-live over and over, and cannot dispel the horror of the blasted broken bodies and anguished voices, pleading for relief and ask me, why did I not TELL them?
I'm so sorry.
I do so love you, my sons, and I wasn't there for you when you needed me. But I'm here now, and now I'm the one pleading, begging. Please let me help, with anything you want or need, before it is too late again. Anything.
Tempus Fugit.
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