Into This River I Drown

“I don’t….”

“You’ve never asked him, have you?”

“No, sir.”

“I’ll bet if you did, he’d tell you exactly what he wants. It seems to me if he wanted to go back, he would have already. If he wanted to avoid any risk at all, he could have. But he didn’t. He took a chance.”

“Because he promised you,” I remind him sadly. “He wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t promised you.”

Big Eddie sighs. “You don’t know that. He could have chosen just the same. We all have a choice, Benji, with everything we do. And if you ask him, I’d bet anything he’ll tell you he wants to stay. And even if it means he dies, don’t you want to say you had what you could with the time you have left? It’s better, Benji, to have something burn brightly for a short time than to never have it at all. But that may not even happen. You just have to have faith.”

“In what?”

He smiles. “That everything will be okay. If he believes in you, then you need to believe in him. Nothing’s written in stone.”

“I don’t know if I can do this without you,” I say, starting to break again.

“Hush,” he says, resting his chin on my head. “There’s still time.”

We say nothing for a while after that, just sit there, content with each other’s reassurance that somehow it’ll all be okay. He never removes his arm from my shoulder. Our feet kick the water. He ruffles my hair. I breathe him in, and he does the same to me. After a time I hear him humming, and I can’t help but go along with it. He finds his words and we sing together: “Sometimes I float along the river, for to its surface I am bound. And there are times stones done fill my pockets, oh Lord, and it's into this river I drown.”

There’s that sense of duality again, like I’m being pulled in two different directions, like the road ahead splits into two different paths. One is safe and certain, the other scary and unknown. But it helps to see.

I understand now, I think. I understand Michael’s gift and what I must do, the choice I have to make. This was never about helping me. This was never about my grief or pain. This was never about the anger, the loss, the love, the betrayal. It’s about nothing that I thought it was. It’s not even about me.

This is about my father. It’s about this man, this big man who sits beside me, who I will compare everyone to for the rest of my life, should I choose to go that direction. It’s about this man who would not cross the final river so he could go home because he loved his family above all else, and he couldn’t see them hurt, no matter the cost to himself.

That’s because it’s all about sacrifice, Michael whispers. The world will blaze in the glory of fathers and sons because they know it’s about sacrifice. What a person does for the greater good defines who they are. A man should never be measured by how full his life is, but what he is willing to give up in order to protect those he loves. He must do so without regard for his own self. That is a measure of a man. That is worth more than any combination of fifteen words that mean nothing.

“I saw things,” I tell him quietly. “Beautiful things. Memories of things that could have happened. They rose like ghosts and I saw it all. I thought it was a gift….”

“But?” Big Eddie prods gently. I think before I speak. “But it’s not. That wasn’t the gift. It wasn’t, because it wasn’t real. It never happened. It was part of the design never used.”

“Then what were you gifted?”

“You,” I tell him, and he smiles at me with watery eyes. “Here, this moment. This chance. I was given you because in my heart, that is what I wished for the most. Not even for you to be alive, not for things to not have happened the way they did, not really. All I ever wanted was to just have a few moments where I could sit right next to you and feel you here, so I could tell you how much you mean to me. How much I love you for being my dad.”

“Benji, don’t you think I know?”

“I know. I know you know. But please, just listen, okay?”

He nods, looking pained.

“I have this moment. I have this great moment, something most people will never get. Not while they still have a chance to live. Not when there is still hope to return. So I have to say thank you.” My voice breaks on the last word, but I push through. “Thank you for being my dad and thank you for making me who I am. Thank you for loving me and accepting me. Thank you for protecting me and making sure I could stand on my own two feet. And if anyone ever thinks me brave and strong, if I ever stand again for what’s true, it’ll be because of you. It’ll be because you are my father, and I will always be my father’s son.”

He looks off to the river, his eyes brimming. “There has never been a father prouder than I am. I hope you know that, Benji.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You’re not going with me, are you?”

I shake my head even as my heart breaks further. “No. I think I’m here to tell you it’s okay now. It’s okay to let go. It’s time for you to move on.” I shudder. “There are others who need me. There are other people I have to help.” I hate the words. I hate everything about them. Even as they spill from my mouth, I want to take them back. But I can’t, because that’s not what he taught me. That’s not what it means to be his son. It’s about sacrifice.

He nods. “It’s the river, isn’t it? I have to cross the river.”

“I think so.”

“I’m scared,” Big Eddie Green says, holding me close. “I shouldn’t be, but I am.”