Destiny Is Always Late

The smell always drove Edward crazy.  Even a minuscule amount drifting in the breeze would set his internal nicotine alarm blaring.  With that being said, Edward was slowly going mad.  The madness was not the problem.  In many ways, it was a comfort to him.  The simple idea that a man could go mad, yet welcome the change with impunity, was a relief to him.  At least it added some variety to his life.  Retirement was not something a man, such as Edward, could allow without some resistance.  So, Edward, in his new job, was always waiting now for that familiar yet agonizing painful smell.  His son, a permanent resident of 50 years, was the source of his agony.  His clothes reeked of the pungent smell.  He was not allowed to smoke within the house but there was no refuge from the smell of the nicotine and smoke which had embedded itself deep within his clothes and belongings.  The war had raged on for decades now with father and son held captive within the confines of their relationship and commitment to their beliefs.  Edward held to his valor in defeating the addiction so many years ago.  Why couldn't the son commit to ending his own addiction?  This was perhaps the most maddening of the dilemma - a father wouldn't ask anything from his son he had not already accomplished.  Why wouldn't his son even try he would ask himself.  Perhaps, within the complexity of the war, this was the hardest part to accept.  Now, as is common in war, there are always two sides.  For Edward, as father and husband, the battlegrounds were within his realm.  He had worked hard to pay for his home and many of the belongings within the walls of his domain.  The son, who had attempted a few times to seek refuge outside the "castle", had always come back to reside in the life fate had ordained.  The complexity of their relationship was even more dynamic due to the queen who loved her son and fought vigorously on the behalf of her ill capable son.  All of her other children had abandoned her but her most adored remained - the prince who was vulnerable to the evils of the world and had to be protected at all costs.  The other heirs would never understand what power the son held over his mother and all arguments would fall on deaf ears.  The father felt he wielded the power but it was the mother who was the dominant one.  The prince understood with an intelligence beyond what was recognizable.  He didn't even contribute to the battles anymore.  It was the queen who would wage war in defense of her vulnerable son.  So, as is common with many families, lines had been drawn for so many years and the war would continue until death declared a victor.  A king will sit in silence today watching reality shows on television and resting from a life of servitude to an idea.  Somewhere, in a foggy haze, reality will soon slip away for Edward.  The battle will be won and a mother and son will be the casualties of a war that should never have escalated to claim the sanity of Edward.  And, as is common in the aftermath of such events, the victors will survey the wreckage and will delve deep within their soul and ask the question, "At what cost?  At what cost?"  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.