The Mourning Of A Son

"Ah, mon ami, it is finished," Picasso Smurf said. "What do you think of the work, M'sieu Cully?"

Culliford stared at the finished statue that now stood in the memorial park near the outskirts of the village. The image of Empathy as he would appear as a young adult Smurf was just perfect in way that Culliford couldn't describe. Granted, Culliford had shaved his face clean of any whiskers in order to be a model for the statue, but it was as if his friend could see into the future and found the very image that would be immortalized forever in stone.

"I couldn't smurf of a better image to stand among us day after day, watching us smurf on with our lives, Picasso," Culliford replied.

"You do not seem entirely pleased about it," Picasso said. "You still think that the death of your son was all your fault?"

"I should never have smurfed him to Psychelia in the first place, all because my wife was so worried that Empathy would never fit in among his fellow Smurfs, Picasso," Culliford said.

"What's done is done, mon ami, and as much as we would want Father Time to unsmurf such terrible things, we have to live with the burden of regrets for things we should have smurfed and learn to live on," Picasso said.

"I don't know if I can continue to stay in this village and have to face the Smurfs who see me as a murderer on my own child, including my wife Lilly," Culliford said.

"You're not seriously thinking of leaving this village, are you?" Picasso asked.

"The more I see my wife with Aristotle, the more I think that I'm better off not being around any Smurf, because I don't know what I would smurf, whether I would want Lilly to be happy with another Smurf or punish her for deciding to smurf her life apart from me," Culliford said.

"If you truly love Lilly, you would let her smurf her time apart from you, and if she doesn't want to return to you, then you should smurf your peace and smurf her your best blessings, Cully," Picasso said.

Culliford sighed. "I guess you're right, my friend. Would you mind if I have some private time alone with the statue?"

"Mais ben sur, mon ami," Picasso said. "If you need to talk more, I'll be waiting for you at the Smurfrock Tavern by the end of the day."

As soon as Picasso left the memorial park with his tools, Culliford stood before the statue of his son. "Empathy, if only you could hear me now, I would ask for your forgiveness and that you know that you'll always smurf a place among us in the Smurf Village, which will always be your home...even though you're now in a smurfier place with all the Smurfs who have smurfed on before us. You have smurfed away from us long before your time, but for the short time you smurfed with us, you made me and your Mama Smurf happy. I couldn't have asked for a better son from Mother Nature and Father Time than you."

And after he spoke, Culliford wept silently in the memorial park for his son. - Sometime later, when Culliford had gone back into his new house, Lillithina went out and saw the new statue of her son that was erected in the memorial park. Her heart leaped as she saw how beautiful the statue was, how it made her see what Empathy would have someday become...an image that would forever stay with her as long as she lived.

She went into the park and stood before the statue, gazing at it, noticing every detail that went into its creation. A tear came into her eyes as she felt the loss of her son all over again, knowing that this will be the only way she will ever see him again in this life.

"Great Smurfiny Crickets, my dear Lilly, what smurfs you here to this place besides the statue that has been smurfed up here?" Seamus asked as he passed by the park and saw Lillithina standing before the statue.

"I feel so empty, Seamus, like this is all I have left of my own son," Lillithina said. "I can't hold him or hear him cry or even smurf anything to him. I don't know if I'll ever smurf another son who's anything like him."

"I only wish that you could smurf back to your own husband Cully and have that question answered, Lilly," Seamus said. "You think that smurfing with Aristotle while you're still married is wise?"

"There isn't a marriage between me and Cully anymore, Seamus," Lillithina said. "He smurfed away something from me that we smurfed together from our love, and I don't think that I could ever forgive him for that. Sometimes I just wish the worst could happen to him so that he would know how much anger and hate that I feel towards him right now."

"Believe me, Lilly, Cully smurfs so depressed over this that he wishes that he was no longer in the village," Seamus said. "But if I were to smurf the same to my little Naomhan, you'd bet a basket full of smurfberries that Molly would want to smurf my head for it."

"I don't want to smurf that to Cully...it's too cruel a fate for him," Lillithina said. "All I want is another son that I could smurf in my arms, and keep him from ever being smurfed away from me like Empathy was."

"And you'd think Aristotle be willing to smurf you that, even though you might be smurfed the worst names in the book for smurfing a child through someone who isn't your husband?" Seamus asked.

"I don't care what anybody wants to call me, Seamus...all I really care about is to smurf another child in the place of the one I lost, and if Aristotle wants to be the Papa Smurf of that child, then I'd be willing to smurf myself to him for that," Lillithina said.

"I'll never think the worst of you for smurfing such a decision, Lilly, which I think is fair for me to smurf you," Seamus said. "The only thing that I want is to see you happy with a child that will always be yours no matter what."

"You're such a good friend, Seamus," Lillithina said. "Would you smurf with me for a few more minutes while I mourn for Empathy here at this statue?"

"I would be honored to smurf by your side, Lilly," Seamus said. "Just remember that I'm always willing to listen to you."