“How Am I Supposed to Go On Without You? What Should I Do? Why Should I Keep Living? Tears Ran Down …

How am I supposed to go on without you? What do I do now? Why should I keep living? His cheeks are wet with tears and a heavy emptiness aches inside him, as if his heart has been replaced by a gaping black hole.

Oliver has loved Alice since he was a schoolboy. Small and delicate, her nose dusted with copper freckleshe remembers that first glimpse in Year 6, and how he fell for her without hope or reason.

Alice was three years younger. She was always top of her class: bright, clever, and shy, with a quiet way about her.

Year after year, Oliver felt himself drawn even closer, always sneaking glances at her during break, watching her out in the playground, skipping rope with her friendslight and joyful, like a butterfly in summer. He dreamed one day shed be his bride.

After he completed his National Service, Oliver returned to the village and went straight to Alices house, a bunch of flowers in hand, ready to ask for her hand.

Alices father was a stern, no-nonsense sort. He asked Oliver to have a word with him in the study. The conversation was long, but finally, with a smile, he placed Alices hand warmly in Olivers.

The wedding was huge and livelyrelatives and friends came from as far as Cornwall and Newcastle. For three days, everyone celebrated the young couple. Alices eyes shone with happiness, and Oliver was fit to burst with pride. He was certain hed found the most perfect wife in the whole county.

Two years later, with help from their parents, Oliver finished building a house of their own. Alice fluttered through those months, full of joy: with three months to go before their first child was due, they moved into their home. Their own family games could finally begin.

They had a daughter, and named her Hazel, after Alices grandmother. Hazel was strong and healthy, though Alice herself had a terribly hard time with the birth.

For a year after Hazel arrived, Alice was pale and weak. Oliver took her from one doctor to another, but each one shrugged, saying only that she needed time for her body to recover.

When Hazel turned one and a half, Alice discovered she was expecting again. The doctors advised her to terminate the pregnancy. Your body hasnt regained its strength; you might not carry the baby to term, and if you do, it may cost you your life. They warned her, grave and unyielding.

Oliver begged her to follow the doctors advice, but Alice wouldnt hear of it.

I wont get rid of my baby! Its not her fault she wants to come into the world. Whatever happens, happens. Gods will be done, she said, resolute.

The final month was especially hard; Alice was in hospital almost all the time. At home, little Hazel missed her mother, and Oliver wandered restlessly, lost in worry.

He felt a sense of looming disaster, and his fears proved right. Alices body couldnt take another labour. Her heart simply stopped. But not before she brought twin girls safely into the world.

Oliver was inconsolable in his grief. At the funeral, he stared at the fresh, black mound of earth, his face blank, his eyes empty.

His mind kept replaying his days with Aliceher laughter ringing in his ears, her smile bright as April sun. Oliver collapsed to his knees, howling like some wounded beast.

How am I supposed to go on without you? What do I do now? Why should I keep living? Tears streamed down his cheeks, as if nothing inside him was left but an aching void.

After the funeral, Oliver began drinking himself into oblivion. Night after night, he tried to drink away her memory, her voice and laughter echoing painfully in his mind.

Alices parents took the girls back to their place, thinking Oliver was too lost in grief to be a proper father now. The family games and laughter were gone from the house.

On the fortieth day after her death, Oliver got hopelessly drunk again and passed out in the hallway. He dreamed a dreamAlice walked into his house, dressed in white, hair loose about her shoulders, shining with soft copper curls in the slanting sunrise.

She came to him, stroked his hair, and gently scolded as she used to: Oh, Ollie, what *are* you doing? Arent you ashamed, honestly? She narrowed her sparkling green eyes, shaking her finger in mock sternness.

The girlsthey miss you terribly. They need you, sweetheart, just as you always needed me. If you still love me, dont abandon them, love them as you loved me.

Oliver woke suddenly, his head clearer than it had been in weeks, a shaft of sunlight warming his cheek through the window.

At sunrise, Oliver went round to Alices parents, freshly shaved and wearing a crisp shirt. His face was serious, filled with a quiet wisdom, as though hed aged fifty years overnight.

He kissed Alices mothers hand in silence, embraced her father tightly, then gathered his daughtersone in each armand brought them home.

From then on, they lived as four. Oliver did his best to be mother and father both. He learned to cook real meals, to wash and mend clothes, to braid hairbetter than any mum. Teachers always praised his girls, for their good manners and smart schoolwork.

If anyone dared upset them, Oliver swooped to their defence, fierce as a hawk.

Neighbours often asked Oliver, Why dont you marry again? Youre still a young man, handsome too, and strong as ever. And plenty of women wouldnt mind a man like you.

He always looked at them, puzzled, and said, But Ive already got three ladies at homewhy would I bring another? Fours more than I can handle! hed say, half laughing, half serious.

So, with joking words, sleepless nights, cold tea, and hard work, Oliver raised three wonderful daughters, real beauties.

When the girls were teens, a neighbour began popping by. Sometimes shed bring dried porcini, sometimes a nice piece of smoked mackerel, always finding excuses. But Oliver could see she wouldnt give up on her ownnot that he wanted to be unkind.

One evening, he invited her in and asked, Which of my girls do you care for most?

I dont need your girls! she replied. Theyll be off to college soon, all flown away. Are you really going to stay alone forever? It’s you I love, not them.

Oliver just smiled and handed her a little photograph of himself. There you golove me at home, as much as you want.

Off she went, with his photo and an empty heart.

The girls grew up, went to university, but never forgot their father. Every weekend, all three would return, to help with the vegetables and housework, to fill the old home with laughter.

Eventually, Oliver walked each daughter down the aisle and spoke privately to each of their chosen partners, just as Alices father had done for him. He always wished only happiness for his three princesses.

Now the girls are grown, with little families and lives of their own. But not a single holiday or birthday goes by without all of them making the trip to his cottage in Somerset. Daughters, grandkids, and even a tiny great-grandsonthey all love Oliver dearly.

When Oliver turned eighty-one, he had another dream.

Hes standing in a sunlit field, tall and strong again, black hair, broad-shouldered. Alice is running towards himbarefoot, in a white sun-dress, sunlight tangled in her red curls.

He stretches his arms wide, his heart thumping, ready to burst. She meets him, hugs him, looking up with shining eyes.

Ollie, my love, you did wonderfully! You gave our girls such a happy life. I saw everything. I prayed for you every day she softly takes his hand, Come along now. We can be together forever.

Hand in hand, they walk across the lush grass, never to part again.

When it was time to remember Oliver, the whole family returned to Somerset. His daughters wept, missing him sorely, but each knew, in their hearts, their father is with the woman he loved all his life.

This is the true life of one remarkable man. A father with a capital F. My own gran told me his story.

Everyone in the village knew him. Sometimes a man lives for his beloved daughters, sacrificing his comforts and happiness for theirs. May his memory be a blessing.

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