Date: Sat, 28 Jul 2001 16:39:07 -0700
From: Hobbyboy <hobby391@att.net>
Subject: Boy From The High Country Chapter 16

BOY FROM THE HIGH COUNTRY - 16

by Hobbyboy

hobby391@att.net


READERSHIP STATISTICS:
Who is reading?
Data is too scattered for charts and graphs, but there are a
few things I can report.
To date I have received e-mails from 103 people. 42 of you have
written more than once. 42 sent some personal information, but
many left out one or more items.
AGE: Of 40 reporting age, there were 6 under 21; 5 age 24-32;
13 age 39-51; 10 age 54-62; 6 over 65
LOCATION: Of 28 reporting location there were in the USA
4 from Great Lakes; 2 from Mid- West; 3 from Northeast;
2 from Northwest; 1 from Plains; 6 from Southeast;
2 from Southwest; and Australia, Canada (Quebec), England,
Italy, India, New Zealand, and Sweden
OTHER: Too diverse to report. There was one female respondent.
THANK YOU for all the mail.
IF I inadvertently failed to reply, I apologize, and you may try
again if you are still interested.


AUTHOR'S FINAL NOTE ON THE STORY:

This story began as a lark, a two-installment throwaway. Kelly
was a generic boy, with only a few hazy details to distinguish
him. But as he began to tell his story, I began to learn how
much was hidden in him. I fell in love with Kelly somewhere
around Chapter 4. Some of you have written me saying things
like, "Take care of Kelly." I know what you mean. He is very
real now to me also. I will miss him.


CHAPTER 16: HOME

June 3, 2008

My dear Kelly,

Some days are marked in memory by great sorrow, like the day
Nick and Tran were taken from me. Some are marked by great joy,
like the day I gave my daughter Heidi in marriage to her best
friend John. And some are marked by both joy and sorrow, so
intertwined that both bring pain, and the pain is such that it
would be far easier if the day were forgotten.

I can not forget. I will not forget. That day when I drove away
from Seattle for the last time, you wept as though your heart
were breaking.  Mine was broken as well. We knew it was
for the best, we both knew this, but knowing did not bring
comfort.

When Bill and Joyce chose, they chose well. They chose to love
you, and fight for you, and nurture you. Now their choice
brings them in their turn to a day of mingled joy and sorrow,
and for them there is a double portion, for they are losing
both their sons, and gaining them.

I will be for ever grateful to them for giving us that one last
night, the night after you placed your pitifully few belongings
in your own room, in your own home, the first true home you had
ever known, save the one you found in my heart. Never had I
loved you so deeply, or held you so closely, or clung to you so
desperately, or rejoiced with you so fiercely, as on that
night. Then on the morrow, we had to part.

Knowing all that I know now of the pain of that parting, I
would do it again. If we could have only one day of the eight
we shared, I would do it again.

Now it is not eight days, but eight years since first I met
you, my wonderful Kelly. I treasure the summers we have spent
together, and the weekends when you could take the train down
to Portland, and the times when you and Frederic could come
together. What times we have had! We have had many partings,
and God willing, we shall have many more.

Tonight you graduate from university, with Frederic at your
side. I will be there, once more to rejoice with you and weep
with you. Next week, you and Frederic will pledge your undying
commitment to one another, and once again I will be there, and
once again I will rejoice, and weep. Who would have thought,
when you were but fourteen, that the promise you made could
last so long, could be so true. I still fail to see how
permitting you to actually marry would bring the end of
civilization as we know it, but perhaps one day the men and
women we elect will see the light and an even better day will
come for you. You are entering upon a new adventure, a life
that is wholly your own to make, you and Frederic. Build it
well, Kelly. Make it count.

This book is my gift to you, my Kelly. It is the story of our
summer, the story of our love. I have learned so much from you.
When I first met you I had closed my heart to the world. I
thought that I had been disappointed too many times, and I was
determined never to be hurt again. Then there you were, asleep
on that picnic table in the high country of Wyoming, and with
your smile and with your love you forced my heart's door open.

This is the main thing I have learned, Kelly. Do not fear to
love. But I must tell you the truth, and warn you of the road
that lies ahead. If you love people, they will break your
heart. But if you do not love people, you will have no heart to
break. If you ever learned anything from me, my cherished son,
learn this, for it will bring you the truest kind of happiness
a man can know: a broken heart is far better to have than no
heart at all. If you have no heart, you are a dead man. It is
the pain of your breaking heart that will tell you that you are
alive.

Go with God, Kelly.

Your Uncle Art


AUTHOR'S NOTE ON STATISTICS:
Who is reading?
Data is too scattered for charts and graphs, but there are a
few things I can report.
To date I have received e-mails from 103 people. 42 of you have
written more than once. 42 sent some personal information, but
many left out one or more items.
AGE: Of 40 reporting age, there were 6 under 21; 5 age 24-32;
13 age 39-51; 10 age 54-62; 6 over 65
LOCATION: Of 28 reporting location there were in the USA
4 from Great Lakes; 2 from Mid- West; 3 from Northeast;
2 from Northwest; 1 from Plains; 6 from Southeast;
2 from Southwest; and Australia, Canada (Quebec), England,
Italy, India, New Zealand, and Sweden
OTHER: Too diverse to report. There was one female respondent.
THANK YOU for all the mail.
IF I inadvertently failed to reply, I apologize, and you may try
again if you are still interested.