20 February 2022

Another Winterfest draws to its close. Wasn’t it only hours ago I greeted you at the doorway of the Great Hall as I watched you descend the Windy Staircase, greeting you at the doorway of the Great Hall more gladdened than poets have words to express? And now I must find a way to say farewell …

This year now behind us seemed one of storm after storm after storm. There were times I read only worry in the tea leaves at the bottom of my cup. Would you come this Winterfest? Would you brave the winds and rains, the bluster and drought, walk all this way? Or would you start out only to have to stop, too tired to take another step … the world, as Wordsworth once said, too much with us.

I’d have understood. 

But you did come. You did! And each hand I grasped in welcome, each bright smile I basked in, stoked the eternal flame of hope I hold in my heart. Its gleam ceased any wavering; any imagined distance closed away.

You joined the circle, completed it. You came home. 

You know, don’t you … this place, these tunnels, exist for you, because of you. And I will always be waiting to greet you in the doorway, standing ready to offer the rest you require, the sustenance, the shoulder, the music, the quiet, the camaraderie. The love. No matter the long years away or the mere days … I will always want you to come home.

We make so much more than just the dream for each other. We make family, a circle that remains unbroken even as we part. So light your candles again as you take your leave of Below. Oh, what a bright processional you make! 

Astonish the world above for me, won’t you?

I know you will.

Until we meet again,

Father