How am I to go on without you? What am I to do? What is the point of living? The tears streamed down his cheeks, and inside an emptiness swallowed him up. Where his heart used to be, there was now only a black void.
Arthur had loved Lily since they were at school together. She was ever so small and delicate, her pale skin sprinkled with ginger freckles across her nose. That was how he first saw herhe was just in his second year, but he fell for her headlong then and there.
Lily was three years younger than Arthur. Always top of the class, the teachers adored her for her cleverness and quiet, modest manner.
Year after year, Arthur found himself drawn to her more and more. Hed peek at her from behind his mates whenever she skipped rope with her friends in the schoolyard, light as a butterfly. He dreamed one day theyd marry.
After Arthur returned home from National Service, he wasted no time. He arrived at Lilys door that same day, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers and the courage to ask for her hand.
Lilys father was a stern and serious man, and spoke with Arthur at length behind closed doors. At last, with a rare smile, he placed his daughters hand in Arthurs.
The wedding was brimming with guests and laughter, people came from the far corners of the county to celebrate. The couple were toasted for three days. Lilys eyes sparkled with happiness, and Arthur was fit to burst with pride, for he believed hed won the finest bride in the whole village.
Within two years, with a little help from their families, Arthur built them a house of their own. Lily flitted from room to room, radiant, as three months before their first was due, they finally moved in. The little games of family life began.
Their daughter was born and they named her Alice, after Lilys grandmother. Alice arrived healthy and bright, but the birth had left Lily frail, and the ordeal of it would haunt her.
For a year, Lily was pale and thin, never quite herself. Arthur ferried her to London specialists, but all they could offer was a gentle shrug and the hope that time might heal her.
When Alice was a year and a half, Lily found she was expecting again. The doctors did their best to persuade her not to keep the child, saying her body had not yet recovered and might not endure. Even if she did, they warned, the child might not survive.
Arthur pleaded with her along with the doctors, but Lily was unshakable.
I shant rid myself of my own child, she insisted, her voice quiet but firm. The little ones done nothing wrong, and deserves its chance. Whatever happens, happens. Gods will be done.
The final month was especially hard; Lily was taken into hospital, while at home little Alice grew restless, and Arthur could find no peace.
He feared the worst, and his unease was not unfounded. Lilys heart gave out during the birth, but not before she brought two lovely twin girls into the world.
Arthur was inconsolable. At the churchyard, he stood before that black mound of earth, his eyes blank and distant.
His whole life flashed before himtheir happy days, Lilys radiant smile. Her laughter echoed in his ears so loud it drowned out the birds. He dropped to his knees and wept, harsh and wild.
How am I supposed to go on without you? What am I to do? Why live at all? The tears kept flowing, and the black hollow inside him grew.
In the weeks after the funeral, Arthur stumbled along, lost in a haze of grief, turning to drink in the hope of silencing the memories and Lilys laughter that haunted his nights.
Lilys parents took the girls to theirs, believing Arthur might never recover and could not manage to be both father and mother.
On the fortieth day after Lilys passing, Arthur, once again beyond sense, collapsed in the entrance hall and had the strangest dream. Lily appeared, in a plain white cotton gown and flowing ginger hair shining in the rising sun.
She approached, stroked his head gently, and said in that affectionate, familiar way of hers,
Arthur, my love, what on earth are you doing? Arent you ashamed? Our daughters hardly see their fathertheyre lonely for you. They need you just as you needed me. If you love me, dont abandon them. Love them as you loved me.
Arthur woke suddenly, his head clear, and sunlight warming his cheek through the window.
As dawn broke, Arthur rose, shaved, dressed himself properly, and walked to Lilys parents home. There was a gravity about himwisdom etched in his eyes, as if hed aged fifty years overnight.
He kissed Lilys mothers hand, embraced her father, gathered up his daughters, and brought them all back to their own home.
From that very day, they lived together, the four of them. Arthur did his best to be both mother and fatherhe learned to cook and bake, to sew and darn.
Hed plait their hair better than any mother in the village, and at school, his girls were always praised for their manners and hard work.
Nobody dared upset them, for Arthur would be there in a flash, fierce as a hawk to defend them.
Neighbours asked Arthur often,
Why not wed again? Youre still young, Arthur, and theres many a lady about whod jump at the chance. Just look at youhandsome, fit as a fiddle!
Hed blink in surprise and reply,
Ive been married for years now.
Why, with three young ladies in the house, why bring in one more? Four would be the undoing of any man!
So, with jokes and late nights, half-eaten meals and honest toil, Arthur raised his girls into beauties.
As they reached their later school years, the widow next door began dropping in, sometimes with a basket of dried mushrooms, sometimes with pickled herring. She made her intentions clear.
But Arthur saw she would not be gently set aside, not wishing to hurt her feelings. So he summoned her one evening and said,
Tell me, which of my daughters do you love best?
She laughed. Ive no need of your girls! Theyll soon leave for university and fly the nest. You mean to mope alone all your days? Its you I care for, Arthur, not your daughters!
He looked her in the eye and handed over a photograph. Heres my portrait. Keep it at home and love me there to your hearts content.
The neighbour left that night, photo in hand, despairing.
The girls grew up, headed off to university, yet never forgot their father. Every weekend, the three of them came home to help about the house and garden.
In time, Arthur walked each daughter down the aisle. He spoke with every husband just as Lilys father had once spoken to him, and wished his three princesses nothing but joy.
They grew, those girlseach with families of their own, children, worries, busy livesbut never did a holiday or family gathering pass without the whole clan coming back to their fathers cottage in the country. Arthur was much loved by his daughters, grandchildren, and even his young great-grandson.
When Arthur turned eighty-one, he dreamed once more.
He stood in a meadow, young and strong, shoulders broad, hair dark. And there, running toward him, was his Lily.
Barefoot, dressed in white, her hair bright with tangled sunlight, she smiled, her arms wide.
He opened his arms, and his heart thundered in his chest, ready to burst with joy. They met and embraced, and she gazed up at him, her voice soft,
Arthur, my dearest, you did so wonderfully. You gave our girls such a happy start. I saw every bit of it. I prayed for you every day. She squeezed his hand. Come along now. Its time for us to be together, always.
Hand in hand they walked off together, through the lush, green grass.
The whole family came to pay their respects to Arthur. His daughters grieved, it was hard to say goodbye, but each knew he was finally with the one hed loved all his life.
This is the true story of a good mana father with a capital F. I learned his story from my own grandmother, for everyone in the village remembered him. Sometimes a man chooses a life of sacrifice for the sake of his beloved daughters, rather than for himself alone. May his memory be a blessing.
