By DebbieB
A legacy…that’s all he had ever wanted to leave for his sons, his legacy. But there he stood, amid the rubble and ruin of the ancient log house that he had for more than half his lifetime, called home.
Gone now were his three eldest sons. Hoss, taken from them so very quickly, so many years ago…in a twinkle of an eye, here one minute and gone the next…
Joe, what with all he’d been made to suffered through emotionally with the loss of his wife and their unborn child, stricken with a deadly illness that slowly ate at his insides and left him with such intolerable agony that he could barely stand the feel of the bed linens against his decaying body…now he was gone as well.
And Adam…he might as well be dead, it had been a lifetime since the old man had heard one word from his eldest son. Adam had stopped writing years ago, so long ago that the old man could hardly remember the last time he’d received a letter. No doubt that the boy, a man now for years, was most likely dead too.
The very things he’d ever loved, ever cherished were his sons, his home, his land…and now it was all for not…for they were all gone, lost to him forever over the passage of time and distance.
The old man sighed heavily and turned. With the help of his walking stick and the young man beside him, Ben Cartwright climbed slowly back into his carriage. It was no easy feat, for his work worn hands were bent and twisted, the fingers no longer straight and strong and flexible as they had been in his youth. His back was bowed; his shoulders slumped, causing him to groan as Jamie helped him into the buggy. Quickly the younger man hurried around to the opposite side and climbed in next to the old man, taking a moment to wrap the blanket about the aged old body for warmth.
“Stop up at the lake, Jamie, please.”
“
At the lake, Jamie helped Ben from the carriage and aided the elderly Cartwright to move to the graves of his loved ones. Feeling a deep embedded sorrow down in the well of his heart that threatened to overcome him, Jamie stepped back and left his adopted father alone with his thoughts.
Ben moved slowly from grave to grave. Marie had been his third wife, the love that came to him in his later years and bore for him, his third son, Joseph Frances, the spirit of the Ponderosa.
Using his cane for support, Ben gently rubbed his hand over the top of the massive stone that bore his middle son’s name, Hoss Cartwright. Ben, his sorrow so deeply rooted in his heart and soul, couldn’t help but smile. Hoss had been the very heart of this place. He had grown to manhood here and had forever left his mark on this land that he had loved and in the hearts of every man, woman and child who had ever had the opportunity to meet the gentle giant.
Tightening his lips, Ben moved to the next stone. For a long moment he stood as if frozen in time, for in his heart, time had come to a complete stop when his youngest and most enduring son had passed from this life into the next. Ben felt the swell of his chest, the tightness of his throat as memories of happier times drifted into his mind. His heart thumped with both joy and grief for what he had lost when Little Joe had died.
Ben closed his eyes. The boy had been so weak, so lifeless for days before his passing. Joe had begged his father to hold him, and Ben never able to refuse his son anything, did as requested. For hours upon hours, Ben had held his son, fingering the soft chestnut curls, whispering of his love, humming and singing softly as he watched the life in which he had fathered, slip further and further away from him and closer and closer to the opened door of heaven.
Ben felt the sting of tears that flooded his eyes, his heart beat rapidly as he felt again all the pain, all the sorrow, all the grief as if Joe’s passing had just occurred. Ben swiped his hand over his face to wipe away the tears that rolled gently downward, wishing with all of his heart that he could turn back the hands on the clock and recall the years when his sons, Adam, Hoss and Little Joe had been boys. But he knew that could never be, he knew that regardless, the hands of time ticked on and all the yesterdays that had filled his life with such pure, unrefined joy, was lost to him forever, never to be again.
But he had his memories, he told himself and he had his dreams, and until such time that the Almighty deemed it his time, Ben would have to be satisfied with those.
“It won’t be long now, boys, until we’re all together again,” Ben whispered lowly.
He kissed his fingers and rubbed them across the top of Joe’s headstone. As he turned to go, he stopped again at Hoss’ grave and gave for the big man, his kiss of love. A third kiss he placed on Marie’s headstone.
“I love you all,” he whispered, his voice crackled by age. “And I miss each one of you,” he added. “But I’m coming home soon…real soon,” Ben whispered. “And when I get there, we’ll have a big party, with lots of good food, and music and dancing…just the way you boys like them,” smiled Ben.
The old man swallowed the lump in his throat and turned, seeing Jamie standing against the buggy. He noted the stream of tears that trickled down the freckled face and Ben paused, placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“As much as I’ve loved each one of them, I’ve loved you as much, Jamie. Never forget that, please son. When I’m gone from this life, my love will still be with you, as theirs is with me. All this,” Ben said, waving his arm about, “will be yours, to do with as you please. I only ask one thing of you.”
“Anything, Pa,” Jamie said with a thickness in his voice.
“Those,” Ben said, pointing to the three graves, “care for them, tend to them, and remember us with love and laughter…though our bodies will return to dust, our spirits remain with you, always…and our love, for love breaks all barriers and even death cannot restrain love…our love for you.”
“I will, Pa…I promise…I’ll look after all of you,” Jamie said as he fought back the tears that threatened to overflow.
“Good boy, Jamie, good boy. I knew I could depend on you. Now help me up into the buggy, I have to go home and get ready for my journey, it’s almost time,” Ben said as he touched his hand to the young man’s face in a fatherly manner.
“You’ve brought me much happiness, Jamie. And I want you to know, I’ve never for one minute regretted making you my son. I’m proud of you, of what you’ve become.
I have tried, all my life to bring respect and dignity to the Cartwright name. I now leave it to you. Remember what the name Cartwright, stands for. Be ever mindful of how it came to be and what battles if fought to remain in such high esteem. I only pray that it will remain as such throughout this land for years to come. It is my legacy now…to all those who come to know it and understand it’s true meaning...which is, respect, honor, dignity, but the greatest of these is love…always love…for one another, for our fellow man…and for our God.”
And thus it was, and thus it shall always be. Cartwright, a name that represents what all men desired most…to be loved by their sons and respected by those who know them; an icon, known to millions around the world. Cartwright, a lasting symbol of fatherhood that far exceeded even Ben Cartwright’s expectancy.
Ben made his final journey, and there to greet him was his loved ones…his wives, Hoss and Little Joe…and yes, even Hop Sing…but Adam had not yet arrived, and Jamie, well he did as his father asked. For many, many years after his father had made his final journey, Jamie Hunter Cartwright tended to the graves on the hill overlooking the lake, and would continue to do so until the day came that the circle would be complete.
THE END
September 2004