The Legacy - The Legacy Saga

The Legacy - Part 12

  Forty-seven

I awaken the next morning with a heavy heart. I wish I could shake the pain, but I don't know how. I spent a good while on my knees last night, praying and begging for God's comfort, but nothing has changed. I no longer hate my father, and I truly want to forgive him. I just don't know if I have the strength to speak the words to him, or even face him.

I pray throughout the day that I might soon feel some peace, but by evening, my heart is still heavy.

 * * * 

Staring out our bedroom window at the River Sile in the distance, I try to draw upon the comfort that usually comes with the view, but it eludes me. After another moment, I finally lie down and try to rest, then I sit up on the side of the bed, deciding that trying to sleep is futile. Closing my eyes, I attempt to clear my mind. But images of my father beating my mother by day then standing over my own bed by night flash before me and my eyes open abruptly, releasing the hot tears trapped behind them. I struggle to push the images away and replace them with good ones, but they continue to intrude and will not leave me. By now the agony growing inside me is so intense, I immediately slip to my knees beside the bed, desperation filling my whole being. I feel like I will die from the pain.

I remain on my knees crying softly, not caring about the ache in my back from the extra weight I carry. Nothing matters except ridding myself of these feelings.

After a while, I drift to sleep.

 

I am sitting in the grassy countryside, staring out at a small lake in the distance. The little boy from the dream I had two years ago is beside me. We don't speak, we simply sit quietly, enjoying the serene view before us. Glancing at his profile, I take in his familiar features. A gentle breeze tousles his black wavy hair and his olive skin shimmers in the sun. He is a beautiful boy and I find myself longing to see his eyes.

He must sense my thoughts, because in the next moment he turns, fastening his emerald gaze on mine.

"Forgive him, Mama."

I wake up with a gasp.

"Our son!" I whisper.  The boy I had just dreamed of for the second time is our son. Mine and Adagio's. My mind reels in amazement.

And he urged me to forgive my father.

With this thought, a feeling of peace slowly enters me, and with this peace comes the start of true healing. I am again overcome with emotion, but it is sweet and soothing instead of painful.

I know what I have to do now. It will be hard, but there is no other choice.

 * * * 

When Adagio enters the room, Cisely is still on her knees. "Are you all right, amore?" he asks, kneeling down beside her.

She wipes her face and smiles. "I am now."

He presses a hand against her cheek, wiping another tear away with his thumb. "I can tell," he says, marveling at the peace radiating from her. Offering up a silent prayer of gratitude, he helps her up and holds her close, kissing her cheek. "Does this mean I need to make plane reservations?"

"I think it does. And since we are going back to the States, do you think we could spend a couple of days in Utah with Jessica?"

"I think we can arrange that."

Her expression sobers. "I'm so sorry about yesterday."

"It is all right, angel," he soothes. "You had a right to be upset. Anyone in your position would have been."