The Note Found Near The Body
I am sorry that our walk along the cliffs ended as it did. I feel responsible for where you find yourself now. That has always been my way, a kind of ownership in circumstances where I was allowed little.
You slipped through my fingers. Careless of the edge as always, you put yourself at risk of the fall that finally came. My awkwardness led, as we somehow knew it would from the beginning, to stumble. You went over, and as you held the edge, I held you. I was, simply, too weak.
I see your emotionless eyes staring into mine as you fall away. Though the fog closed around you quickly you had time to drop your arms to your sides, telling me that you were finished reaching out to me. Even at the last, you let me know that from me you required, as ever, nothing.
Your family has launched their boats. You are skilled among rocks and breakers and I pray those hidden below have welcomed you among them safely. I have never known you to fly, but I have often seen you float. I can do neither.
There were gardens near our home, Eleanor. I will always wonder why we walked the cliffs daily. In the meantime, I release this note into the perpetual fog below and wait on what comes.
21 December 2015