Letter From a Father to His Beloved Son
SEALED WITH BLOOD
Cite de Dio
The Feast of The Holy Innocents, A.D. 2032
My Dearest Miguel,
Oh, how I yearn to see your face again Miguel, my first-born son and only child. I so very much wish you were here with me now in this incredible city where the Sun never sets. Each time I look into the face of my Father, I see your face there. My joy would be that much more complete if you decide to join us here.
I realize our parting was so very hard for you. I wish it had not happened that way, and I realize that you could not possibly understand how I could have left you without an explanation. Now, I will try to explain. I know it can never erase the sense of bewilderment and disbelief that must have engulfed you at our parting. However, as I’ve come to know my Father here, I have come to know too that I must speak to you about those days of bewilderment and wonder and disbelief. I wish I had known my Father better in my youth. He has such boundless wisdom. Oh, the mistakes I could have avoided, and the suffering I could have prevented, if only I had listened to that wisdom in my youth. I pray you will understand, someday, that these words I write and speak are not words of regret. It is too late for regret. They are simply words of truth that I could not have possibly shared with you before that painful parting. You would not have understood then.
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Kneeling had always meant self-abnegation. To kneel in church was to blend in utterly, to be one more duck in a pond of ducks. Now I felt as if I were showing off.