Free The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) by D.S. Elstad

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shaking hands with another man.  The first man looked back at Dad and just
stared.  He was small in stature and somewhat hunched over, holding onto a
cane.  His eyes were pale blue and looked almost white against the snowy
color of his eyebrows, which were knit together in an expression of
sadness.  The two of them stood there and stared at each other for what
seemed like forever.  I knew this had to be Grandpa Conor. 
    “Jack,” said the elderly man, slowly turning
himself to face Dad, extending his hand.
    Dad stood motionless, then finally reached out as
people passed by on their way into the church, many of them staring at Dad and
Grandfather.  Obviously the rift between the two of them wasn’t much of a
secret.
    “Hello, Dad,” he responded with a chill to his
voice, keeping his head low. Grandpa Conor grabbed hold with both hands,
hanging his cane on his wrist.  I studied his face, trying to see if it
showed any trace of the same kind of anger Dad was holding on to.  All I
saw was sadness.  The lines in his face were deep, as though they had been
there for ages.  As the two released their handshake, Grandpa looked down
and grabbed his cane.  It was then he saw me.  He just stared as he
had done with Dad, and then finally asked, “Is this…?”
    “This is Willow,” Dad replied, pulling me around
in front of himself.
    Grandpa Conor kept staring at me, then took a
handkerchief to his eyes.  “A pleasure to finally meet you, Willow,” he
said, his voice cracking.  He reached his hands out to me.
    I grabbed hold of his chilly fingers and felt them
tremble within my grasp. “A pleasure to meet you,” I answered, just stopping
myself from saying Grandpa, not sure whether or not he’d like me to call him
that.  I stared into his blue eyes and felt overwhelmed by the sadness
that flowed from them.
    Organ music began playing inside the church, which
prompted Grandpa Conor to turn his head in that direction.  Looking back
at me he clutched my hand tightly for a brief second, smiled, and then let go.
He turned and slowly shuffled inside with the help of a tall man who put his
arm around Grandpa’s shoulders and escorted him away. 
    Dad and I followed behind him and were met by Uncle
Eagan, Kelleigh, and Quinn, along with their parents.  Dad went off with
Uncle Eagan, leaving me to find a seat with Quinn and Kelleigh.  We sat in
the second row behind their mother. 
    I lost myself once more to the majesty of the
cathedral, which was even more spectacular inside.  Gigantic columns and
arches lined the sides, dwarfing the wooden pews on either side of the
aisle.  Straight ahead, the altar was highlighted by the splendor of three
soaring stained glass windows.  Scenes from the Bible adorned the windows
with glorious color.  Stained glass filled the walls of the church and the
pictures on them were stunning and awe inspiring.
    My attention then shifted to the parade of people
coming in to pay their last respects.  They were mostly older folks,
friends of my grandparents, I assumed.  I sat and wondered about Grandma
and Grandpa when they were young, what they must have been like.  While I
looked around the church I noticed pictures had been arranged on a large board
placed to the side of the altar.  They were of Grandma Shannah at all
ages, from a little baby all the way up to her old age.  I wanted to go up
and study each and every picture.  She was becoming real to me
now.  
    The music changed tempo and in walked Grandpa
along with Uncle Eagan.  Following them were Dad and John, Quinn and
Kelleigh’s father, and several others carrying the sapphire-colored casket up
to the altar. They then sat in the row in front of us and the priest began the
service.  It felt odd to be sitting there, saying good-bye to someone who
was a stranger and at the same time, so much more.
    After a long eulogy and a countless number of
hymns, the service ended with an announcement by the priest inviting