«Do not invite them, I sayunder no pretense!» I heard my brother’s harsh whisper. «Its your birthday, Stephen. Thirtyfive is a serious milestone.»
«I dont care,» he snarled. «I dont want to see them.»
«Stephen, enough! Ten years have slipped by.»
«And another ten will pass, and twenty. To me theyre already dead.»
Eleanor slid into the chair beside him, took his trembling handhot from the strain that always rose whenever the subject of our parents came up.
«Edward called. He asked if he could come.»
«Arthuryes. One person. No one else.»
«He said Mum was crying. Wants to see you.»
«Let her weep. Where was she when they threw me out of the house? When I spent nights at friends places in turn?»
It was an old story Eleanor knew by heart. The second year of university, a brutal session, expulsion. Our father, a retired colonel, a man of iron principles. «Disgrace the familyleave.» And Stephen left. He vanished somewhere.
«Youve made it,» Eleanor said. «You finished another college, got a job.»
«On my own! Without them! And Arthur later bought a flat! A car! A beloved pet!»
«Dont be angry with your brother. He isnt to blame.»
«I’m not angry, but I dont want to see my parents, not even at the doorstep.»
Eleanor sighed. A futile exchange, as always.
That evening she washed the dishes, thoughts turning to her own lifeher mother, whom she hadnt seen for three years before the final breath.
Shed once been angry at her mothers relentless nagging, her senseless punishments, the humiliation. Shed fled to another town, changed her number.
Later her aunt called: their mother had passedliver disease. Only one sister had been in the hospital ward.
Even now, in the dead of night, she dreamed the voice of her mother:
«Emily, forgive me,» the voice begged, but the line was cut.
«What are you thinking about?» Stephen asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
«About Mum.»
«Again chewing on yourself?»
«I cant stop. I should have come back, at least to say goodbye.»
«She cheated you, Emily! Wasted your scholarship.»
«But she was ill. A penchant for strong drink is a disease.»
«And what? An excuse?»
«No. Yet I could have forgiven. Now its too late.»
Stephen turned her toward him.
«Dont torment yourself. You did what you could. You saved yourself.»
«Lost my soul in the process.»
«Nonsense. You have the brightest soul I know.»
He kissed her temple and she pressed close to him. He did not understand how to live with such a burden.
They decided to keep the birthday at home. Fifteen guestsclose friends, colleagues, Edward and his wife.
From dawn Eleanor bustled in the kitchenfresh salads, hot dishes, a cake ordered from a bakery. Stephen helped, slicing vegetables, setting the table.
«Arthur will definitely be the only one?» he asked amid the chores.
«He promised.»
«Good.»
By seven oclock the guests began arriving. Edward showed up at half past seven, followed by two more.
A stern, greying father in a rigid suit, and his petite wife in a floral dress, clutching a small parcel.
Stephen froze, bottle in hand.
«What does this mean?» he asked.
«Stephen, my son» the mother stepped forward.
«I didnt invite you.»
«We came of our own accord,» the father declared sharply. «We have a right!»
«You have no right!» Stephen shouted. «Edward, what the devil?»
«Brother, dont be angry. Theyre just parents!»
«I dont care! Get out!»
The guests were stunnedsome with glasses, some with plates. An awkward silence fell.
«Stephen, dont,» Eleanor whispered, touching his hand.
«No, I must!» he burst. «Youve not known me for ten years! You ignored my wedding! You wont even recognise my grandson! And now you show up?»
«We wanted to wish you well,» the mother offered the parcel. «Happy birthday.»
«Throw your wishes away! I need nothing from you!»
«Stanley, stop this tantrum!» the father barked. «Behave like a man!»
«Like you taught me? Throwing a son out for a misstep?»
«You disgraced the family!»
«I was a student! A regular student who failed a term!»
«Because of parties and girls!»
«And that gives you licence to cast your son out?»
The mother began to sob. The fathers face flushed.
«We gave you a lesson!»
«You shattered my life! If not for Eleanor, for my friends, where would I be?»
«Dont exaggerate! You survived!»
«Only because of you! Ill survive!»
Edward tried to intervene. «Listen, calm down. The guests»
«Let them go!» Stephen turned to the door. «Out! Both of you!»
The father straightened even more. «Well then, I finally know I made the right decision. All our assets will go to Edward, to the very penny! And younothing. A void!»
«I care not for your money!»
«Well see how you sing when were gone.»
«Rubbish road!»
The parents left. The mother hiccupped, the father marched away with heavy steps. Edward chased after them, pleading, trying to persuade.
The room fell silent.
«Apologies,» Stephen said to the remaining guests. «Family quarrels.»
«Thats alright, it happens,» someone tried to ease the tension.
But the celebration lay ruined. The guests slipped away quickly, leaving only Edward, pale and dejected.
«What brought them here?» Stephen asked, weary.
«I thought youd reconcile. Mother begged.»
«Let her beg as much as she likes. Im indifferent.»
«Brother, thats not right. Theyre old now.»
«And so? Old age is a pardon?»
«The father mentioned his will seriously. Hell leave you nothing.»
«Good riddance. I dont need his alms!»
Edward left. Eleanor quietly cleared the table. Stephen sank onto the sofa, his face pressed to his palms.
«Did I do right?» he muttered.
«I dont know. But I understand you.»
«They didnt even apologise. Came as if nothing had happened.»
«Pride wont let us.»
«My pride? Could they have trampled me?»
Eleanor sat beside him, embraced him.
«We couldnt. Yet sometimes sometimes forgiveness is better before its too late.»
«Hows your mother?» Stephen asked.
«Shes gone.»
«Thats another story, Emily. Your mother was ill. Mine were merely harsh.»
«Perhaps. Or perhaps they just dont know how to love otherwise.»
Three years later, a normal morning, Stephen was getting ready for work when the phone rangEdwards voice.
«Brother, dads in hospital. Stroke.»
Something inside him snapped.
«Seriously?»
«The doctors say it may be irreversible.»
«Understood.»
«Will you come?»
«I dont know.»
«Stephen, hes your father. Whatever happens.»
He hung up. Eleanor watched, questioning.
«Dad is on his last legs.»
«Go.»
«Why? He doesnt want me.»
«And you? Do you want him to die that way?»
Stephen was silent, recalling childhoodfather teaching him to ride a bike, fishing by the lake, firstgrade school with a massive satchel and his father’s steady hand.
When did the protector become tyrant?
«Go,» Eleanor urged. «Later will be too late.»
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and medicine. A frail, silverhaired woman in the corridor clutched at Stephen as soon as she saw him.
«Stephen! Youre here!»
She embraced him, but he stood like a statue, mute.
«Hows dad?»
«Bad. The doctors they give little hope.»
«Can I see him?»
«Hes unconscious, but they say he hears.»
In the ward, the father lay in a bed of tubes, drips, monitorsa once formidable colonel now a feeble old man.
Stephen sat beside him, took his dry handlight as a birds feather.
«Father, its me. Stephen.»
Silence, only the beeping of machines.
«I I want to say. Ive been angry. I held a grudge for years. For throwing me out. For the indifference. For loving Arthur more than me.»
His hand trembled. «But you know what? I forgive you. Hear that? I forgive you, for everything.»
The fathers eyes fluttered open, cloudy yet recognisable.
«Father?»
His lips quivered. Stephen leaned in.
«Forg forgive»
A single word, barely audible, reached Stephens ear.
«I forgive, Father. Its alright.»
The old man closed his eyes again, his face finally at peace.
Stephen stayed, holding his hand, speaking of work, of family, of a grandson the old man never got to meet.
That night the father passed quietly, as if in sleep. The mother later said he had been waitingfor forgiveness.
After the funeral, Stephen and Eleanor sat at home, sipping tea in silence.
«How are you?» she asked.
«Strange. I thought Id feel something, but inside its empty.»
«You did right by leaving.»
«You know, he actually said forgive. The first time in my life.»
«Pride crumbled before a bigger world.»
«Mine too.»
Eleanor lifted her head.
«Emily, forgive yourself for Mum. She wouldnt have wanted you to stay in torment.»
«How do you know?»
«Because parents love their children. Even those like my fathercrooked, painful, but love nonetheless. And they forgive all.»
Eleanor wept. Stephen pulled her close, pressing her against him.
«Were both fools. We clung to grudges, gnawed at ourselves. We should have simply simply forgiven.»
«Now we know.»
«Now its too late for them. But were alive. We can live without that burden.»
Outside, the first snow of the year fellpure, white, like forgiveness, a fresh page.
Stephen thought of his father, of how they might have reconciled sooner. How much time was wasted in bitterness.
At least he had spoken, had been heard. That was enough.
Wisdom lies in forgiveness, for parents are not eternal, and we cannot choose them.
