*Blake*
I considered inviting Merida to accompany me on a walk through the garden, but the winds have picked up and it is bitter cold out. The rain arrived at dusk and is slashing at the windows. If it were spring, I would take her on a picnic beside one of the rivers that cuts through my brother’s land or one of the ponds where we sometimes fished as young lads. My chest tightens with the thought that one day I will take Brandan fishing there.
I have always known the possibility existed that I would one day have children, but I have always expected to ease into the role of father. Instead it has been thrust upon me with no preparation. I can’t mourn the fact when the same situation has been thrust upon Merida. I won’t complain, resent, or wish matters were different. I will accept my duti
