A Cloistered Heart

A young man allows himself time for grief but not in view of the world. He comes out of his physical cover but keeps his heart covered.

Sitting on his college trunk in the dark, the young man stares into the blackness above his head. Body racked with sobs, that he muffles in his father’s coat hanging beside him, the young man tries to grasp the concept of his father’s permanent absence and then immediately rejects it. A soft knocking sound on the door makes him stiffen suddenly.

“Tee Dee? Would you like a little dinner?” a warm voice spoke quietly through oak panel.

“Mom?” he said in a cracked voice and then cleared his throat.

His mother stood close to the hallway closet door trying her best to hold back her own tears.

“DELIGHTED!”  he said in an enthusiastic way.

She covered her mouth quickly with her hand to stifle her sob. Her tears flowed freely.

“Alfred made a nice lobster bisque. Your favorite, dear.” she said with herculean control.

“Bully!” he replied.

She put her hand on the cold oak door for a moment before retreating down the hall with a tear streaked face.

Moments later he stepped from the closet with a new composure. He replaced his freshly polished spectacles on his nose and then straightened his vest. The future president of the United States looked left down the hall. A footman stood just outside the master bedroom where his father’s lifeless body lay. Turning away from that end of the hall and putting his back to the pain and sorrow, the twenty year old Theodore Roosevelt Jr. closed the closet door and went to dinner.