Sunday, July 13, 2014
He woke with a start. The light pierced through his eyelids as he closed them tightly. As his thoughts floated around his mind he realized where he was. He opened his eyes and jumped to get up but his arms yanked him back towards the base of the mast. He looked and saw his hands and arms tied around the large mast broken half way up he sat down to collect himself and figure out what to do. He was about to start untying the knots but when he unclenched his strong hand and saw a large strand of a beard. He remembered, it was his father’s. His father had cut off the beads woven into his beard, the beads that had been handed from father to father, and gave them to his son. That was his father’s last action before being crushed by the falling mast. He starred down at the glass and amber beads woven into the rough hair, he looked up slightly to see his father. Dead, crushed beneath the tremendous weight of the large mast. He did not cry or shout out he knew it was of no use. His father was dead and the only thing to do would be to live strong in his father’s honor. Because it is the acts of the sons that reward the father in batha-notar(heaven and/or val halla).