Cry for Spring (standard:drama, 588 words)
Author: BENTLINK	Added: Jan 16 2010	Views/Reads: 3034/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Henry would just like one more spring with April.

CRY FOR SPRING 

We cried for Henry today.  When last fall Henry said, “I just can't wait
for spring to come”, we thought it was because he was as anxious as we 
all were for warmer weather.  It was only later in the deep of winter 
we learned Henry was ill and not likely to get well. 

Henry talked constantly about spring; he spoke of wading in ankle deep
icy water to cross the little creek behind his house to pick newly 
sprouted dandelion greens from its south facing bank.  He talked about 
stretching out on the big flat rock up near the top of Smith ridge and 
letting the sun warm his bones.  He wanted to see the old momma fox 
take her new cubs for their first walk outside the den.  He talked 
about watching the blue birds and robins mating and nest building. 

For all his life Henry worked hard building barns and fences, felling
trees, and mending wagons and even fixing people when he could.  Henrys 
soft low voice could sooth any upset horse or angry husband.  Children 
with hurt feels were magically drawn to Henry for comfort.  He sat 
quietly and listened head semi-bowed nodding yes again and again as the 
child explained away the sting of their injuries. 

When Henry became bedridden, he talked about the many springs of years
past; the wet spring and flood of 84 when the people of the holler took 
to flat bottom boats and came calling to check on each other.  He told 
us about when he was a boy and tried to get honey out of a big hornets' 
nest high up in a walnut tree.  He said he later figured out his uncle 
was just kidding when he told Henry hornets made honey having no idea 
the boy would try to harvest some.  Henry said he always remained 
thankful that the insects let him off with just a few warning stings.  
A springtime he talked about almost every day was when he went for long 
walks with April the girl from town, Henry showed her the cave he found 
and the Indian drawings on its walls and in return, April showed him a 
thing or two about kissing.  April took several springtime walks with 
Henry and taught him the reason town girls are so popular 

Near the end of his life he got to talking a lot about heaven and how he
worried there would be no spring there.  He talked about how he would 
miss the enjoyment of spring sunlight on his bare skin and the way the 
spring rain felt on his face. 

Henry said he remembered talking to spring one year and it made so many
wild promises about how fine the coming summer was going to be we would 
have needed three or four summers pushed up together to squeeze in all 
the good stuff spring talked about.  Every body laughed about that and 
Henry smiled.  It was kind of sad because saying these things was so 
unlike Henry we thought it must be the drugs talking. 

When Henry's time came, he was surrounded by a circle of friends sharing
his visions of a warm golden sun, mild soft rains, fresh green growth 
and brand new life all around. 

We buried Henry today on his family plot up near Smith ridge over toward
the south side were the dogwoods, redbuds and crabapples bloom.  Then 
we cried for our old friend Henry and maybe just a little for spring as 
well. 


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