The young man closed his eyes and knelt down beside his bed. He clasped his hands together and he rested his head on his hands, as his elbows sunk into his bed.

He softly spoke, “We all matter, to make this dark world a better place. When we show love to one another, this light gets brighter. When someone dies, another person is born. The light fades, but then it eventually comes back again. When love is taken away from us, we feel we are lost; the light at the end of the tunnel is gone. Hopefully, my father can find light again. Please Lord, help my father find the light in his life, he needs you now. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

The grumpy, short old man shuffled around, talking to his wife’s picture; his love of his life who just recently passed on. He mumbles to the picture, making sure no one else hears, but his wife. His wife’s voice speaks softly inside his head, but he thinks everyone can hear.



“Be quiet, Mallaree!” the old man shouts, startling everyone in the nursing home.



“Sir, are you-” the old man cuts the nurse off, again shouting.



“Shut up, Mallaree! You left me in this dark world! My light is gone! And it’s-” he suddenly stops. His face goes pale, dropping the picture that he never puts down. Everyone’s eyes wide, watching him as he slowly tumbles to the ground. As the old man falls, he watches his life flash before him. His thoughts are racing through his head like horses around a racetrack. The last thought on his mind is when he met his wife.




He was fifteen, sitting in church with his family. The pastor was talking when a grandma, mother, and daughter walked in a little late. He didn’t really care to look at who walked in until the girl caught his eye. He watched her walk by, as she fixed her blonde hair and caught a glimpse of him too. Their eyes met, and his heart stopped as he looked into her beautiful blue eyes. She looked away, trying to hide her smile. He knew he needed to talk to her; he needed to meet her, but how? He discreetly watched her throughout the whole service. She started coughing; everyone around her kept looking at her. She got up and walked out of the service. He couldn’t help it, he had to follow her. He walked out of the service as well, following her in a secret agent kind of way.

She went to walk back to the service after she got a drink of water from the water fountain, when he said, “Excuse me?” she turned to look at him.




“Uh hi?” she said in a friendly, but questionable way. He just looked at her and again she spoke. All he could see was her lips moving, he was mesmerized by her voice, her looks, her eyes. “Are you okay?”



“Oh yeah I’m fine. Sorry... I’m Greyson. Greyson Moore,” he told her as he put out his hand. She looked down at his hand, looked back at him, and smiled. “And you are?” he asked.




“I’m Mallaree. Mallaree Skylar,” she said as she shook his hand. She let go of his hand, flashed a smile, and waved good bye. He watched her walk away. Her long, blonde hair flowing back and forth with every step she took. But this time the story changed. She didn’t walk back into the service, but she walked into a light, slowly fading away.




The old man took a deep breath in, like he was just revived from drowning. His eyes opened, he saw an EMT. His eyes closed. They opened again and he heard sirens. His eyes closed again, but he was confused. His eyes opened and he went to talk, but he couldn’t. What was wrong? Why couldn’t he talk? He tried so hard, but nothing would come out. He tried keeping his eyes open, but it was a struggle. He closed his eyes once again.




“Da- Da- Dad? Dad?” Riley kept reiterating. Greyson slowly opened his eyes, seeing his son’s face. “Dad, can you hear me?” Again, it was a struggle to speak. “Dad, if you can hear me, shake your head.” He slowly shook his head up and down. “Do you know what is going on?” Greyson shook his head side to side. “Dad, you had a heart attack. You’re lucky you’re alive. You need to be well-rested and take it easy so you can get better. You hear me?” He shook his head up and down as he fell asleep.




A couple hours later, he woke up to a nurse checking his vitals. “E-e-e-ex-excu me,” he struggled to get out. The nurse turned and looked at him. “Wh-where i- m-m-my –o-on-?”




“Where is your son?” the nurse questioned to see if that’s what he was asking. He shook his head up and down. “Your son is in the cafeteria. He wouldn’t leave your side. I had to make him go get food and coffee, get a break. I told him I would watch you until he gets back.” Greyson looked at her, slowly turning away to look out the window. He was shocked that his son, who hasn’t spoken to him since the day he was put into the nursing home, was that worried about him. He didn’t expect that to happen until he was on his deathbed. Then he chuckled to himself, not noticing his son walked in.



“What are you laughing at?” asked Riley, giving his dad a weird look.



“O-o-oh n-no-no-no-othing,” he grumbled, as he shooed away his son.



“No, dad, what are you laughing at? I know you can’t talk, so write it down.” Riley handed his dad a pad of paper and a pen. He sat eagerly, waiting for his dad to finish writing. His dad handed him the notepad and Riley read it, while Greyson waited for his son’s response:

I was laughing because I didn’t think I

would see you until I was on my death bed,

then I realized I almost did die.

Riley looked up at his father with a tear rolling down his face, but he was laughing. Greyson closed his eyes, and fell asleep with a big grin on his face.



He slowly opened his eyes, seeing his son asleep in the chair beside him, with his leather jacket wrapped around him. “Son,” he spoke surprising himself, “Son, wake up!” Riley jumped, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.



“Dad!” he exclaimed, just as surprised as his dad was.



“Son, I appreciate that you’re here-,” Riley cut him off.



“I just didn’t want to lose another one of my parents.”



“Riley, don’t speak,” his father ordered, “I’m sorry I was mad at you for putting me in the nursing home after your mother died. I just didn’t want to leave all the memories behind in the house we lived in-,” Riley interrupted him again.



“Dad, I bought the house. It’s still in the family, and I plan on keeping it that way. I grew up in that house; I have so many memories there too. And now,” Riley paused, looking at his father who was looking out the window, “I, too, can raise my family in that house.” His father turned towards his son, with a confused look on his face. “You know how I kept calling you but you wouldn’t answer?” his father looked away, “I kept calling you because the day you were put into the nursing home,” Riley cleared his throat, “is the day you became a grandfather.” His dad turned, again, to look at him. This time, he looked deeply into his son’s eyes. “Her name is Skylar, dad. Skylar Mallaree. We named her after mom, dad.” A tear went down Greyson’s face, and he closed his eyes. He opened them again, holding out his hand. Riley put his hand into his father’s hand, watching his dad as he closed his eyes again.

Greyson dreamed he was in a tunnel, not being able to find his way out. He walked by Mallaree, who was walking in the opposite way. He stopped her. “Mallaree! Mallaree!” he hugged her tight.

“Hi Greyson,” she said as she looked past him, in the direction she was going. “You have to keep walking Greyson.” She pushed him off of her, and she kept walking.

Greyson ran after her, shouting, “No! I am coming with you!” She turned towards him, stopping him in his track like a deer in headlights.

“You have to move on,” she explained, “I am gone now. Keep walking, you’ll find the end of the tunnel. Don’t let me hold you back.” He looked at her, heartbroken. Tears were flowing down his face like a waterfall.

“But, but, Mal... You-”

“Go!” she ordered. Greyson watched her walk away; getting smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see her anymore. He turned, walking slowly in the direction he was before. He was looking at the ground, nothing was changing. It was still dark, silent, and lonely. Then he heard a baby crying. He looked up and saw the light at the end of the tunnel. He started running towards it. As soon as he got there, he woke up.

“Dad, this is Skylar,” said Riley as he held out a baby girl for his father to hold. Greyson held out his arms that were shaking. He couldn’t be any happier. His son was back in his life, he was holding his granddaughter, and he was still alive after his massive heart attack.
He looked out the window, whispering to himself, “Thank you, Mallaree.”