The Man buttoned up his shirt, stark white. He wasn’t sure about the vows he prepared. Were they enough for the love of his life that was just one room away? The Man was of few words. He decided less was more.

Her veiled beauty was led down the aisle, a swan landing gracefully in the water, the echo of her footsteps the beating of her wings. With her delicate hands, she grabbed his, signaling her assurance.

“And do you take him to be your lawfully wedded husband?” asked the officiant.

“I do.” replied The Swan, her fingers still intertwined with The Man’s, as to not cross them.

“You may kiss the bride,” 

The Swan’s lips migrated to The Husband’s ear, whispering her unyielding love to him like birdsong. His reply was her kiss. Only in his heart did he whisper back, yet he was not concerned, for once they were home she was only one pillow away.

On their honeymoon, they flew to warmer weather. Unter the tropical sun The Man’s heart burns for The Swan. Though the shade is cool, The Swan can still feel his warmth, she’s only an arm’s length away.

Mere months later their future sits on the bathroom sink, The Husband doesn’t know what to think. The Swan is scared, her perfect down feathers have never been tousled so suddenly. The Husband occupies himself with occupations and preparations for the reality that hasn’t yet set in. But the Swan’s eyes are sunken in, losing all luster. The Husband works, and into it, he pours his soul, the love he can only show. The Husband wants a fortitude for their family, to be content. The Swan’s losing her grace, and for some time it goes unnoticed, unspoken. Her tossing and turning keeps The Husband awake at night so he moves to the spare room. This hurts her, he wants to say sorry but it's alright, he is only one room away.

In the rhythmic bustle of the hospital, a baby girl is born and The Father’s world goes silent. 

“What do you want to name her?” beams the tired Swan.

“I think It's best you choose,” says The Father, but he always loved the name Abigal, “My father’s joy”. In his mind, she will always be The Joy.

As The Joy’s eyes opened to the splendor of the world, The Swan’s continued to dull. One day her grace became too heavy to hold and she fell to the ground, a snowflake atop asphalt, she melted. As she folds The Father’s world begins to fall around him like the walls of Jericho. He tries to whisper an “I love you” as they whisk her away but the words saturated in concern catch in his dry throat.  He reasons it's okay because she is only one ambulance away.

The Father is back in the beeping blur of the hospital but the lights are too bright and the sorrow too loud. Somewhere not too far away a mother cries, her child in a coma. Somewhere not too far away an old man breathes, the death rattle in his lungs, not a soul to comfort him as his slips away. Somewhere too close for comfort a father holds a mother’s hand, five-month-old in his arms, as the doctor delivers her sentence. With the bang of its gavel cancer seals her fate and in a few short months her life will be taken with no bail or chance of parole. He sobs and the tears, like glass, scratch at his eyes and air escapes his lungs in spasms. No one should have to preplan their funeral, it's like inviting the executioner in for tea. 

The Father was angry. Angry that doctors couldn’t perform miracles. Angry that his Joy wouldn’t have a mother. Angry that she didn’t have the strength to pull through. He wasn’t really mad at her but his absence in her presence felt palpable. 

The day The Swan slipped away, The Father was sitting bedside when she grabbed his hand, signaling her assurance. As before she whispers her love in his ear but this time she demands a response.

“Say something. Please, for once let me know what you are feeling.” she pleads, her heart rate spiking in desperation.

“I don’t know what to say!” he begs, his heart rising in his throat, pushing bitter bile to his lips.

The next moment she was gone and The Father’s world wen’t quiet again. This quiet was only interrupted by The Joy that he was left with. The Swan was only a memory away.

Time began to blurr together. In The Father’s silence The Joy grew. Soon she was ten.

“Dad we are doing a family tree at school. What was mommy like?” she asked tentatively, knowing he wouldn’t answer her question.

“She was great.” he murmured, done talking about it. “She would have known what to say. How to answer your question.”  It’s alright, she was only a room away.

She resigned to his answer, knowing he didn’t like talking about that and went back to her room. She whispered to herself, “What about you?”

Soon she was eighteen. She was looking at colleges, she had dreams for herself. She wanted to go out of state, she wondered how much she would miss The Father but did she know him well enough to miss him? When The Joy moved out, The Father’s life was completely silent. It’s not so bad, she is only a call away.

“Dad I’m failing. I don’t know what to do.” The Joy cried into the phone. It wen’t deeper than her grades. She was losing her joy. Depression and substance abuse had riddled her life since she moved to college.

“It’s alright, I don’t care about your grades” what she needed to hear was “I care about you”.

The next week he was planning a funeral and The Man’s world had crumbled. Sitting by her grave he finally knew how to say, “I love you”.