GoT Writings

Week 2, Day 2, short story: Everyday Hero

It was odd to be in a room full of people who all seemed to look up to my dad like he was some kind of hero. A part of me wanted to see him through their eyes just for a moment.
The other part of me wanted them to see him though my eyes – as just a good man who did what he vowed to do all those years ago – love my mom until death. There is nothing heroic in cooking for someone you love, taking care of their every need, or doing for them that which needs to be done.
It’s called humanity. He was being human, that’s all. I scan the crowd wondering what was so heroic about loving someone. The courageous thing was to stay married when you wanted to bolt. But they married at a time when a vow meant something, and personal whims and fancies were set aside for the love of another. Having morals and values should not be considered heroic. What is wrong with these people?
Yet one by one, they shuffled forward to pay last respects to my mother, giving her a tear-filled send off to a better place. I listened to their stories, whether with eyes brimming over with tears, or a gruff voice hidden behind a brisk cough. In the midst of these shared remembrances, I learned that my mother and father really were glued at the hip all those years. It really was heroic to stay, and raise the children you brought into this world, together and united.
I allowed myself the luxury to momentarily slip back to those bygone days where he really was my hero and really could fix everything. I drifted back to those days when he would play soldier with me, to the days we would take a run out to the shooting range to see who could shoot better, or back to those days when he would watch me play basketball – bad as I was.
For you see, truly the best honor or eulogy I could give my mom was to recognize that my dad was the best part of her, and vice versa. Through their eyes and example, I saw that my dad was and always had been mom’s hero.
[word count: 378]
and "Game of Thrones"