Summary: Ben shares his thoughts about both the tragedy and triumph he experiences when Little Joe is blinded.  Based on the episode, “The Stillness Within”. Rating T, WC 7430

One More Day

*** Last night I had a crazy dream, a wish was granted just for me.  It could be for anything.  I didn’t ask for money or a mansion in Malibu, I simply wished for one more day with you.  One more day, one more time.  One more sunset, maybe I’d be satisfied.  But then again, I know what it would do.  Leave me wishing still for one more day with you.  One more day. *** (excerpt from song “One More Day” written by Bobby Tomberlin and Steven Dale Jones.)

I sat in the living room staring at the fading embers in the fireplace as they smoldered and sent out their last gasp of heat.  The house was quiet, much too quiet.  No, it was more of a stillness, I thought, yes, the stillness within the Ponderosa Ranch House.  Miss Dobbs had told Joseph to consider the stillness he held inside as he thought out his moves and counted the steps that would take him to every piece of furniture and how to get in and out of the house.  I shook my head and thought back on the last three months.  Joseph being blind, it was a nightmare for all of us, and I felt it more intensely that night.  Miss Dobbs had put it as gently as she could for me, I suppose.  She said that she knew how much I loved my son and that I would want the very best for him.  It seemed like a salesman’s pitch to me, and I knew that something was about to be said that I wouldn’t want to hear, but what she said next made me fall back into my chair.  She wants to take Joseph to the school for the blind in San Francisco.  She said that she thought he’d make an excellent teacher.  I almost had to laugh at her words.  Joseph a teacher?  My boy only got out of school because Miss Gower couldn’t take his antics any longer and let him leave when he was just shy of sixteen.  But now suddenly my son would make an “excellent” teacher!  I understood the point she was trying to make, though the minute she said it my first thought was to walk across the room and pour a shot of brandy.  I didn’t do that – I couldn’t.  Miss Dobbs could hear every step and would instantly know where I had gone and would be able to detect the sound of brandy being poured into a glass.  I simply told her, “Of course I wanted the best for Joseph”.  Miss Dobbs went on telling me that Joseph felt useless here and that he needed to believe that he was useful.  Did she think that I didn’t NEED him?  He was more than useful in my eyes!  But I had to listen, after all I had brought her out to the ranch to help my son in the first place.  I was starting to believe that Joe might have been right when he had demanded that no one be brought into this house to assist him.  Maybe the road to hell was paved with good intentions?  I thought back on those grueling first days and the accident, which was the reason why I might end up losing my son now.

************

I was shocked to hear my son, Hoss, as his shout came from out front.  I hurried to the door and instantly saw him holding Joseph in his arms as he lifted him out of the back of the buckboard.

“Pa – there’s been a bad accident!” Hoss shouted out of breath as he drew closer to me.   He looked winded, though it couldn’t be from carrying his brother.  No, Hoss looked petrified.

“Bring him up to his room!” I insisted and held the door open wider.  I practically ran up the stairs right behind my middle boy, and with each step that I took I fought back my fears.

He spread Joe gently onto the comforter there on the bed and then turned to me; his eyes brimming with tears.  For such a big man he could appear so childlike at times, so strong yet so full of worry over his little brother.

“What happened?” I asked, my fingers shaking as they touched Joe’s torn clothes and the blood that coated them.

“The nitro – it was on one of those shelves – I don’t know how it dumped over – Joe couldn’t say.  He’s been out of it, Pa.  We had to dig him out from underneath the boards of that shed.  Pa – Pa I thought he was dead,” Hoss fought back his tears and the shock of seeing his brother half-way blown to shreds.

“Have you sent someone for Doc?”

“Yes, Sir, he should be here soon.”

Drawing in a deep breath I attempted to go into my “pa mode” and fought back my fears.  “Get Hop Sing to bring up soap, water and extra towels.  I’ll get him out of what’s left of his clothes.”

Hoss pointed to the mass of bruises on the side of Joe’s head.  “Pa – he got hit bad on that side of his head– I was so afraid that –,” He couldn’t get his words to sound coherent as he drew in a deep breath.

I touched Hoss’ arm and nodded, attempting to allay his fears.  “Joseph is tough— we’ll get him fixed up.  Just go and get Hop Sing, Son.”

Hoss turned and hurried out of the bedroom while I tried my best to get my youngest out of his clothes.  That proved to be a chore as the caked blood had glued some of the remnants of his shirt and pants to his body.

“It’s going to be okay, Son, your Pa’s right here,” I whispered when I finally got the boy free of the blood-soaked clothing and gently slipped him underneath his sheet and blanket.  I tried not to dwell on the way the right side of Joe’s face appeared up there by his hairline.  The large mass of bruises was a frightening sight.  They were solid black, and I knew that meant bleeding underneath his skin.  And the fact that Joseph hadn’t moved an inch, not even when I tugged the remnants of his clothes off his body gave me pause.  I tried my best not to think of the ramifications of his injuries and how they might affect him.  I’d turn those concerns over to Doctor Paul Martin as soon as he arrived.

****************

Paul made it to the house an hour later and, after washing his hands, went about inspecting the numerous cuts and bruises all over Joe’s body.  He and I placed bandages over what we could, and I waited and watched Doc for a sign.  Paul never said anything right off, he was always measured in his assessment of a patient until he had done what he could for them.

“Doc?”

“I’ve got him patched up the best I can, Ben, he’s taken quite a blow to the head – he’s got a concussion –there’s no way of telling how bad it is,” Paul said and tried to tell me about his diagnosis in a calming tone.

And then suddenly there was the first sign that Joe was coming back to me.  He muttered a few unintelligible words, as I leaned close to him up at the head of the bed. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

“Pa?  Pa?”

“Doc says you’re going to be alright.”

“Darn cat – knocked the – knocked the nitro off the shelf,” Joe muttered his explanation.

“You took quite a walloping there.  You trying to blow up the whole world?” I attempted to make light of the situation.

And that was the moment that I will remember for the rest of my life.  Joe’s eyes – they were open and yet they didn’t focus on me.  I could tell that he was trying to find me but couldn’t.

“Pa?  Pa—where are you?  Pa –I can’t – I can’t see you!”

I grabbed Joseph’s left hand as it sought out my face.  With a firm, albeit trembling grip, my fingers encircled his.

“Joe?” I could scarcely utter his name, my fear increasing with every second that my boy’s eyes didn’t focus on my face.

“Pa — I’m blind!” Joe gasped.

Paul stared over at me as though he’d known what had happened to my son all along.  He had said it, that we’d just have to wait and “see”.  Well, we could “see” but Joseph couldn’t “see” any longer.

************

I stood and decided to toss one large log onto the dying embers of the fireplace.  It should be enough to carry us through this long night; I thought to myself and once more sat down in the blue chair.  I knew I’d never be able to sleep, not knowing what Miss Dobbs had in mind to tell Joseph the next day.  She had hidden her blindness from my son during the two months she had helped teach him.  It was supposed to be some grand surprise so the boy would know that he could also live a life that was useful too.  I hadn’t minded that thought at first but now, however, it seemed like the surprise was on me and not my son.  I never suspected that she would encourage him to leave for a life of teaching far away from his home and me.  Her reveal would help Joe make up his mind, and he’d probably choose to go and try to become a teacher.  I would have to pretend that I was just fine with the plan and wish my son well.  That’s what a parent is supposed to do; put themselves last.  Now that Miss Dobbs was in bed, I decided that I deserved that brandy.  I walked over to my desk and poured two fingers full, taking my glass back over to my chair.  It wasn’t a night for sleep but for reflecting.

*************

The days that had followed the discovery that Joseph was blind were unimaginably difficult.  Joe had asked for assurances every single day that he would get his sight back.  We all told him that he would and to be patient.  Sure.  Joseph was never a patient person – not in his entire life!  But he had some healing up to do with his other wounds and in a way that was a good thing because it kept him in bed where he wouldn’t get hurt and I could keep my eye on him.  Meanwhile Hoss and I talked about how we would help watch him. A month passed by, and only then did Joe fall into a deep depression.  He felt that Doc wasn’t telling him the truth about the chances of him getting his sight back and it angered him.  Paul was used to my son’s ill temper at times and the two of them usually had a good rapport that would often make Joseph laugh; until now.  Joe begged for an honest answer and Paul could only say that he couldn’t promise him that he’d see again but that he shouldn’t lose hope.  By the end of that first month Joseph had no hope left inside of him.

How can a father not hover when their child is hurt, no matter how old that child might be?  I tried my best not to fuss over him so much, I really did.  But that day when I heard him there on the top of the staircase, I was filled with dread that he’d fall and break his neck.  I don’t even remember shouting, but Hoss later told me that I had.  It didn’t help.  Joseph held onto the banister for dear life and by the time he made it down to the bottom he was hopping mad.  I remember that day all too well.

“I’m not an infant!” Joe fumed and tried to home in on where I was standing still holding my breath.

“I know that — I just wanted –,”

Joe cut his father off.  “Yeah, Pa – you wanted to hold my arm, take me down the stairs, and drag me across to the table.  Then you’d pull out my chair and cut up my food.  Can’t you at least let me try to do this?  I mean you were the one hounding me to get out of my bedroom!”

“Little Brother,” Hoss began as he drew closer, trying to calm him down.  “Pa was just looking out for you.”

Joe’s ironic laughter rang out loudly.  “Yeah – looking out – you two can look out – I can’t.  So, just let me bump into furniture and make a mess at the table.  Never mind,” Joe turned back for the stairs and grabbed the railing.  He dragged himself up into his room.

***********

It had taken two more days before Joe had agreed to come back downstairs and make a try at getting to the table.  I watched from my chair in the dining room and held my place and my breath.  Joseph had made it down the stairs and then his hands shot out in front of him as if he was grabbing at the air.  One minute he was heading in the right direction and the next he was about to miss the sofa and head towards the front door.  I jumped from my chair and was across the room in only a few seconds’ time.

“I’m right here, Joseph, I’ve got you,” I said as I grabbed the boy’s arm.  This time, unlike earlier in the week, he seemed to welcome my touch and even placed both of his hands firmly onto my arm as though it was a lifeline.

“Just – just show me where the sofa is,” Joe insisted.

I guided him back towards the settee and he leaned forward grabbing onto the top of it.  “I’ve got it from here, Pa,” Joe nodded as he grasped at each piece of furniture.

I stood right next to my son and had to pull the end dining chair out of the way before he hit it.  Joe took his place at the table, and his hands fell in front of him searching for his plate and cup.

“Here, let me fill your plate,” I offered and Joe hesitantly held his plate up in the air trying his best to discern the direction of my voice.

I set my son’s food on his plate and hoped he wouldn’t notice how I’d already cut up the meat.  I sure didn’t want to send Joe back up into his room again.  “The meat is on the left, and the vegetables are on the right,” I directed quietly.  I touched his outstretched hands and placed the plate into them.

“Thanks, Pa.  Where’s Hoss?”

“There’s a sick mare out in the barn — and –well you know your brother he’s tending to it.”

Joe reached for his fork and attempted several times to spear a piece of anything from off his plate, finally succeeding.   I watched him eat, finding words hard to come by at that moment.  All I could think about was Joseph’s eyes and how they rarely blinked.  It happened just a few times and I determined it to be his body’s automatic response to cleaning his eyes to prevent anything from irritating them.  I tried my best not to watch his every movement, though Joseph wouldn’t know that I was doing it anyhow.  But that blank hopeless stare, it just got to me.  It was almost like he was staring into the tragedy of it all and the bleak future Joseph supposed awaited him.

“You’re sure quiet tonight, Pa,” Joe mentioned and turned to where he knew I sat at the head of the table just to his left.

“Oh—well I’ve just been thinking,” I said but was worried about going any further with what I had wanted to broach with Joseph.  I had thought about mentioning getting a teacher from the institute for the blind to help him, but I knew that the mere suggestion of it would set him off the same way it had done when I’d first brought it up weeks ago.

“You know – that’s something that’s hard for me,” Joe trailed off and carefully brought his water glass up to his lips, almost spilling it as he tried to set it back down on the table.

“What’s that, Son?”

“Well – I miss being able to see your face, Pa.  I mean it’s always been pretty easy for me to read.”

“Oh?”

“Sure,” Joe nodded.  “I mean if you raise one of your eyebrows it means “Joseph you are digging yourself in deeper and I don’t believe one word that you’ve just said.”

I laughed heartily at that observation.  “I never knew that, Joseph.”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe nodded again and continued, “and then there’s the way that you raise both of your eyebrows – now that’s when I always knew that I was REALLY in for it.”

“What does it mean if I raise both of my eyebrows, Joseph?” I played along with my son, hoping that Joe was in a better mood that night.

“Oh, whenever you raised two eyebrows it always meant, “don’t go there, young man or else”.

“I guess I don’t have much of a poker face,” I agreed smiling over to someone who couldn’t see it.

“No, Sir, you’ve never had that.  Just like now – I imagine that you’re looking over at me with the “what can I say to make Joseph feel better” look on your face.

“No, you’re wrong, Son.  Actually, I have the “I wish Joseph would eat more of his dinner look” on my face.”

“Well, no matter how you’re looking at me right now – I sure miss seeing your face, Pa.  What I’d give for just one more day – one more time of seeing that “look” you always gave me when you knew I’d been up to something!” Joe exclaimed and suddenly grew quiet.

I reached over and placed my hand onto my son’s left arm, trying my best to sound encouraging, “Joseph, you’ll see my face again.”

“No, Pa, I don’t think so,” Joe whispered resolutely and then set his fork back alongside his plate.  “I think I’ve had enough.  Goodnight, Pa.”

And with that statement, Joe slowly pulled his chair back and, inch by inch, found his way across the room and over to the staircase.  I watched as my son tightly grabbed the banister with both of his hands, pulling himself higher and higher, like a sailor climbing a rope up to the crow’s nest.  Joseph hesitantly made his way up to his bedroom and closed himself in once again.

************

Another week went by of trying to help my son and most of the time being unsuccessful.  Joe stayed in his room most of the time, insisting that he was just fine up there in the solitude it afforded him.  I knew I would lose him to his depression if I didn’t take some kind of action.  Joe had been very vocal in his insistence that he didn’t want me to send for a teacher who could help him get around better while we waited for his vision to return.  If I even brought it up, he’d get defensive and then it would take a day or two for him to talk to me again.  I felt as though I was walking on eggshells daily with my son and it pained my heart.  There had always been such a tight unbreakable bond between the two of us.  Now his blindness was tearing our relationship apart and my failure to act on my instincts wasn’t making the situation any better.  I’ll never forget the night before the teacher from the blind school in San Francisco was due to arrive, unbeknownst to Joseph.

*************

I paused outside of Joe’s bedroom and drew in a deep breath.  In the past I used to steal into my son’s room late at night to check on him when he was troubled.  I’d keep the wick of my lamp turned down low, trying not to awaken him.  Now I wouldn’t have to do that as Joseph would never see the light that it gave off.  I gently eased the door to his bedroom open, quietly closing it behind me.  I noticed that Joseph had managed to change into his nightshirt, but then again, I had asked Hop Sing to make sure that he left it at the end of the bed to help Joe find it on his own.  I drew closer and stared down at my son and thought about all the things that I missed, Joe’s laughter being one of them.  It had always had such a strange twittering sound to it that it surprised and amused almost everyone who heard it.  I hadn’t heard my son’s laughter, nor had I witnessed one smile from him ever since the accident.  I missed Joseph, the way he was before his life was turned upside down.  His personality was contradictory in so many ways.  Sometimes Joseph was hot-tempered and easily angered whereas there were times that he was so kind and tender-hearted that it surprised those who didn’t know him as well as I did.

Having checked on him and offering my usual prayer, I turned to leave the room and was surprised to hear my son’s voice calling out to me.  It was soft and yet there was an alarming undercurrent to it; he sounded upset even though all he had voiced was just the word “pa”.

“I was – well I was just checking on you,” I tried to pretend that I hadn’t been worried as I walked back towards the bed.

“What — were you worried that I’d run off somewhere?” Joe questioned a note of sarcasm in his tone.

I cleared my throat, choosing my response carefully.  “No – just – well it’s just the “Pa” in me – you know — just counting heads before I go to bed.  I guess I’ll never change.” I wondered why I felt so ill at ease around Joseph, almost as though I needed an excuse to be standing in his room at one in the morning.  Joe wouldn’t know the time, nor would he be aware that it was still dark outside.  His whole world had been cast into perpetual darkness.

Joe pulled himself up and threw his legs over the side of the bed and whispered, “I wish I had known — before the accident.  I would’ve looked at everything one last time.  I would’ve gone down to the lake and sat on my favorite rock and spent hours just looking across at the mountains.  I’d have ridden around the ranch – and groomed Cochise one last time while I could still see him.  And I would’ve played one last game of checkers with Hoss.”

I settled down on the bed next to Joe and placed my arm across his shoulder.  I waited to hear him out knowing that he wasn’t done yet.

“I wish I could have one more day, Pa, just one more.  But I know that’s not going to happen.  I can’t even look at your face right now to see what you’re thinking.  If I could just stare into your eyes, I’d know if it was true that you really think that I’ll get my sight back.”

“I think you will, you don’t need to look into my eyes, Joseph,” I answered as definitively as I could at the time.

“You have to say that – because you’re my father.  But maybe it’s time to be honest, Pa.  It’s not going to happen and we both know it.”

“Joseph, Doc says that you still might regain your vision.”

“Are you telling me not to give up again, Pa?  If that’s the case, then why do you keep asking me about getting a teacher from that blind school?”

I breathed in deeply deciding it was time to try again to get through to my son.  “That’s not giving up, Joseph, — it’s just a way of helping you to get by until your sight returns,” I replied and tried to sound convincing though I had to accept the fact that a month had come and gone and Doc told me that the chance of Joe’s vision being restored was almost nil now.

I could feel Joe’s body stiffen over what I had said, and I could almost feel the rage building inside of him at the time.

“The minute that a teacher comes here I’ll know that my life is over – that’s why I told you that I don’t want one here!”  Joe returned, his voice filled with anger at the very thought of getting help for his blindness.

I placed my hand onto the back of my son’s neck and tried to massage it a bit to calm him down some.  I then replied quietly, “That’s just not the truth, Joseph, if a teacher were to come here it would mean that I just wanted to get help for you until you regained your sight.”  I wondered how I could lie like that to my son.  Miss Dobbs would be arriving later that day.  I couldn’t let him know – because I knew how he would rebel at the mere thought that I’d gone against his wishes.

Joe pulled himself away from me in anger, thrusting his body up to the head of his bed.  “I’m not gonna talk about that anymore, Pa!  Now, I’ve told you how I feel – that’s it.”

I shook my head wearily knowing that Joseph couldn’t see my worry or the betrayal all over my face.  I just had to remind myself that I was his father and sometimes a father must make some tough decisions for the greater good.  I pulled myself off the bed and attempted to push aside the curls that had fallen onto Joseph’s forehead, a gesture that I’d always done as a show of affection.

“I want you to rest, Joseph.  Things always seem worse at night,” I whispered and hoped he didn’t hear the defeat in my voice.

“It’s been night for a month now, Pa – I’ve been in the dark all that time.”

Joe sounded so desperate that I found myself to be struggling even worse than usual to choose the right words that might help.  Before I could respond he jumped back in.

“Go on to bed, Pa – there’s nothing you can do about any of this and we both know it.”

I reached down and set my hand on my son’s shoulder and offered, “Sometimes a man just has to let it all out – it helps.”

Joe gave a short ironic laugh and replied, “My eyes don’t work anymore, Pa, not even to cry.”

“Good night, Joseph,” I whispered and had to give up the cause at least for the present time.  I walked to the bedroom door and opened it, casting a parting glance at my boy. He was just sitting there up against his headboard unmoving. This time I closed the door pretending that I had left.  But I stood there inside the bedroom staying as quiet as a church mouse.  That’s when I saw my son lean forward dropping his head down into his hands.  Joseph was sobbing.   I wanted to go to him and comfort him, but then I would reveal to my son that I’d seen him break down before.  And, just like tonight, he’d never known that I wasn’t far from him as my own tears had streamed down my cheeks, just like they were doing now.  I had to wait until I saw Joe lean back and noticed that he had finally shut his sightless eyes.  He was asleep at last.  I shook my head and pushed away my latent tears as I slowly walked out of the bedroom.

************

I looked down at the bottom of my glass and was surprised to find that I had polished off the contents without even tasting it.  Staring over at the grandfather clock I sighed wearily.  It was two in the morning and I wasn’t even yawning, not with the thoughts that kept pounding in my brain.  It was like I was doing a post-mortem of the last three months in my mind.  It was tragic and yet it did have some triumphant moments as well.  Of course, nothing ever went smoothly when Joseph got his dander up and he sure did that when he found out about Miss Dobb’s arrival.  I can still hear how he yelled that day!

*************

Hoss had eased his little brother inside the ranch house knowing the woman was waiting to meet her new pupil.  Just as soon as I said the words, “Joseph – there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” it was as though he immediately knew what I had done.  I’m quite sure if situations had been different and it had been his oldest brother, Adam, who I’d done this to, I’d have heard the words from Shakespeare, “E tu brute.” I braced myself for Joseph’s reaction and the upcoming explosion from him when he asked if she was from the institute.  When Miss Dobbs confirmed that she was, he went on to say that he was going to get his sight back and that he didn’t need her.  Then Joe yelled that he didn’t want her here.  I watched in muted horror as Joe almost ran to the stairs and then slammed hard into a chair causing him to fall to the floor.  I did what any father would have done at the time.  I raced over to Joe to pull him up.  I wasn’t prepared to face his overwhelming wrath.  Joe shoved me away with his hand and then somehow made it to the stairs grabbing onto both sides of the banister as he hurried up to the safety of his bedroom.  That was his introduction to Miss Dobbs, which later formed into a teacher-student relationship.  The woman was a tough lady, and she was also a no-nonsense kind of person.  Day by day she taught Joseph how to eat, how to count steps and how to go up and down the staircase.  She also informed him that he wasn’t the only person in the world to have lost their sight, and she expected more out of him than he gave her sometimes.  I was amazed at how fast Joseph took to her, especially for a boy who had fought me tooth and nail over having a teacher come to the ranch.

There were still times when Joe would fall into despair and Miss Dobbs would caution me not to go to him; that was hard.  I’d always been there for my son, and I wasn’t sure that it was a good thing to be so hands off now.  However, she had known what to say to make him stop feeling sorry for himself much better than I ever could.  Miss Dobbs said that it was because I was too close to him and that I loved him far too much.  She had me pegged from the start.  I loved him too much; I always had and I always will.

The day that Miss Dobbs showed Joseph about reading by learning braille was a pivotal moment.  He had missed reading and he was told that if he began to learn to read then eventually, he could be taught how to write in braille too.  Joe took right to it, surprising both his brother and me.  I think that’s the moment that Miss Dobbs first mentioned the fact that many teachers at the institute were also blind, though she never gave away the fact that she was one of those teachers.  It put that notion into Joseph’s mind, though he never said a word about it to me.

There was one day when Joe took a blow to his ego and fell into a deep depression again.  A girl from town, one he was fond of, stopped by and for the first time could see that Joseph was blind.  That had sent Joe up to his room, refusing to talk to anyone.  He had later somehow got a bottle of pilfered whiskey somewhere and was having himself a good time outside in the rain in the pitch dark.  I was heading out to have a stern discussion with Joseph when, once again, Miss Dobbs begged me to let her handle it.  I didn’t want to.  I was still Joe’s father, and I felt it was my place and not hers to get after him about his drinking.  Hoss intervened that night and I had to give up once again.  Miss Dobbs got through to Joseph, and she let him know that if he wasn’t going to try that she was just going to leave and go back to the institute where she told him she was very badly needed.  I know Joseph had grown so dependent on her help that it scared him, maybe enough to sober him up at the time.  He straightened up and in a few days was amazing us all with his braille reading abilities.

Due to Miss Ellen Dobbs, my son laughed for the first time as he challenged me to a horseshoe match.  I felt like I would cry the first time I heard him.  It meant just that much to me to hear happiness coming out of him for the first time in three months.  I had watched him progress from someone who was unsure in all his movements to a young man who stood straight and tall and somehow managed to get around every piece of furniture in the house.  He could locate everything on the dinner table too.  I couldn’t have been happier.  That is, until tonight.  Now my heart hurts.  She said that “perhaps” once Joseph learns that he can do something worthwhile and necessary he “might” come back here and find a place for himself with me.  Find a place for himself with me?  What kind of a thing is that to say to me anyway?  Joseph has a place with me for the rest of my life.  He is my son.  I need him!  But she told me that Joseph needs this, he has to feel like he’s needed by others besides his father and brothers.

************

Standing from my chair I just shook my head at the thought of everything I’ve already gone over for hours now.  I’ve got to let Joseph go.  I also have to somehow, and I don’t have any idea how to do this, let him think that I am just fine with it.  I realize that he can’t see my face so that’s the easy part.  However, he can surely hear my voice and I’m quite sure it will break when I tell him to go and that I have no qualms about it.  Dear Lord, why did he lose his sight?  Why did someone so carelessly place the bottle of nitro there on that top shelf?  This is my youngest, I’m not even half done with him yet.  Oh, God, help me find the words if there are any – that will help me let Joseph go.

There was only one last thing I had to do before going to my bedroom and trying to somehow get a few hours of sleep before Miss Dobbs revealed her great surprise for Joseph.  I needed to see him.

*************

I stood outside of Joe’s bedroom and thought back to the many times I had made a late-night pilgrimage inside.  I remember Marie scolding me when we had finally moved the crib into the bedroom across from ours and tucked Little Joe in that first night.  The boy cried and cried, making me run across to his room and hold him.  Marie laughed at me when she caught me there next to the crib for the third time.  She said that our boy was fine and he was just trying to get his own way about things.  I nodded to her that I was aware of that fact and that Little Joe was just like his mother; far too cute for his own good.  Joseph was trained before I was and through the years, I still often found myself across the hall just looking in on him.  I sighed and shook my head, I know I’m an old fool, but I’ve had a lot of practice at it.

I stealthily made my way to the side of Joseph’s bed and couldn’t help smiling over the fact that he had fallen to sleep with all his clothes on once again.  Blind or not that boy had gone to sleep in just that fashion so many nights that I couldn’t count them all.  It was then that I noticed the book spread out on his chest.  Joe had been practicing reading braille again.  It sent another pain down deep in my chest.  I knew he was trying so hard to find a place where he would fit in a sighted world.  If I could give my son my eyes I would do it without a moment’s hesitation.  I love him that much.

My fingers trembled as I reached down and softly pushed aside those unruly bangs of Joseph’s from off his forehead all the while wondering if I would ever have the chance to make that familiar gesture of my love for him again.  With my youngest taking up residence in San Francisco soon he would be too far out of my reach.  One more day, Joseph had requested that two months ago, hadn’t he?  How many more days would I have with the boy before he left the Ponderosa and me? Could I wish for one more day with my son?  And if that wish was granted, I know just what I’d do, I’d be wishing still for one more day with him; no amount of time would ever be enough to satisfy my heart.  And his blindness along with going to teach so far away from his home wasn’t the future that I had hoped for him, nor was it the future Joe had wanted.  My son would’ve continued to do what he’d always loved to do.  He would gentle the horses both he and Hoss had fun rounding up every year.  Joe would race Cochise faster than I liked and laugh the whole time watching the grimace on my face while doing it.  He would go to dances, and he’d get into fist fights at the Silver Dollar Saloon.  And he’d look at me right before he went to bed every night and give me that certain smile that always let me know how much he loved me better than his words ever could.  That was Joe’s life, the life he had wanted to live.  I couldn’t bear to think of a life without my youngest and now it was going to happen.  Carefully lifting that braille book still resting on his chest, I drew in a breath filled with sorrow and laid it there on the nightstand.  Then I bowed my head in prayer.  I prayed that God would give me the strength it would take to let Joseph walk out of my life for his sake.  I prayed that my boy would do well out there in San Francisco.  I prayed that Joseph would always remember how much I loved him.  I walked across the room with a heaviness in my heart that I don’t think I’ve felt since I lost Joe’s mother.  I turned to close the door and as I did, I sent up one final prayer.  It was the same prayer I’d said for three straight months.  I prayed that Joseph would someday get his sight back.

*************

The following morning after just a few hours of sleep I prepared for what was going to be the toughest day I’d had in recent years.  I washed off and shaved and tried my best not to look as glum as I felt inside.  Joe would need me to sound upbeat after he informed me about finding out that Miss Dobbs was also blind, and I couldn’t let him down no matter how I felt about the whole situation.  It was day one of letting Joseph go and I dreaded it.  But I was his father and he came first.

Just as I opened my bedroom door and readied to make my way downstairs, I heard Joe shouting my name.  It almost stopped my heart; it sounded that frightening.  My mind instantly went to the worst-case scenario and that was that Joe had gotten hurt, maybe falling or slamming into something.  I raced across the hall moments before Hoss came barreling down following me.

“Pa!” Joe shouted again and then he heard me opening his door, stepping inside the room.

“Joe? What is it?” I asked breathlessly as I saw him slowly turning away from his bureau.

Joe took a few precarious steps in my direction, and I noticed that he didn’t have his arms out in front of him like he usually did, the way Miss Dobbs had shown him weeks ago.

“Pa – Pa, I can see – I can see,” His voice shook with his words.

The walk over to my son seemed to be miles long and my legs shook by the time I had him locked inside my arms.  I hugged him tightly just taking the time to relish that moment, commending it to memory for all time.  A few minutes later I had to ask, had to know the whole truth of the matter.  Could Joseph see a little bit?  Maybe it was just a small amount of light at first?  I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to have them dashed again.  And I didn’t want to hurt Joseph in case his vision would never be as it had been prior to the accident.  I finally pulled him back just a bit as I placed my hands on both sides of his face, never wanting to release him.  “Clearly?  Everything?” My voice was now shaking more than my legs were.

Joe was crying joyful tears as was I.  “Everything – just like before,” Joe whispered his voice faltering due to the unexpected and sudden return of his vision.

I stared into those hazel eyes, Marie’s eyes, my son’s eyes that now could see me, could read the way I raised one or two eyebrows once again.  I was amazed that Joseph was blinking and his eyes darted back and forth watching my reaction to his news.  Random thoughts raced through my mind, and I couldn’t grasp them all.  No more watching Joseph counting steps to move about.  There would be no more worrying about how he would ever survive in a sighted world.  My son will be racing up and down those stairs now and never even looking at them as he did it.  He’d be rounding up horses and breaking them, a job he loved.  Joe would be going to dances and playing checkers with his brother.  And each night before he went to bed, he’d now send me over that smile of his that always told me that he loved me more than his words ever could.  Joseph and I had prayed for the same thing, and the good Lord had granted us our request, we had one more day – the first of many to come – and we’d give thanks and be grateful for every single one of them.

I held onto Joseph knowing that he wouldn’t have to leave me now.  I thanked God as tears drifted down my face.

*** I’d hold you every second, say a million I love you’s – that’s what I’d do with one more day with you. ***

The End

(For Carm)

Written by: Wrangler

12-24-25

With thanks to the wonderful writer Suzanne Clauser for her original script “The Stillness Within” and to Michael Landon for his creative control of the story.

(Dedicated to my story consultant Rob for another year of stories.  And to a friend who created two amazing sketches from The Stillness Within which gave me the inspiration to write this story.)