The Changing Seasons - An Endless Cycle
A dying woman reflects on her life, memories return prompted by the visits from family members. She is then able to face death peacefully.
Ruth lay quietly in the softly shadowed room, a slice of golden sunlight filtering through the colored panes, pooling at the end of the bed in the nest of fresh white sheets. Dust motes whirled lazily in the warm breeze, catching the light. Sounds trickled through the half-open window, warm on the spring air. Birdsong, laughter. The sky was a brilliant cobalt blue against the deep green leaves. She could remember years like this, when days seemed to stretch ahead forever. The beautiful times, when she was only a small child. She recalled the midday sun changing ordinary colors into impossible hues. The red and white checks on her best friend's school dress, glistening segments of orange on sports days. As she had matured, she had envied children their innocence. When she was young, the greatest pleasures life held were simple things: games in the school yard, kicking at golden autumn leaves, her mother cooking her favorite supper.
"Mother! Mother!" It was Anne, her eldest daughter. Rapping impatiently on the door, she marched into the room bearing a tray on which steamed Ruth's lunch. Her mother gently thanked her and she smiled and stroked the outstretched hand, her eyes softening as she felt its frailty. Then she turned and left as quickly as she had come. Ruth was alone again; the peace shattered like the smooth surface of a pond after a pebble has been thrown and disturbed it. Anne had always been flighty, she mused, as she spooned up the unidentifiable mush, which tasted better than it looked. Marrying Mark without her permission. She had known he was not the kind of man she would have wanted for her daughter. Still, she had to admit, he had been a good provider - her grandchildren wanted for nothing. In her day she wouldn't have dreamed of courting a man behind her parents back. Thankfully they had approved of her choice. Joseph was the kind of man impossible to find nowadays, sincere, gentlemanly, but with a merry twinkle in his eye. She had met him whilst walking back from town, carrying far too many packages, filled with materials to make beautiful dresses-cherry red, sage green, daffodil yellow.
"May I help you?" he had offered. She had accepted gratefully, reaching to take the warm brown hand. Soon they were seeing each other every day. She had several suitors and had often been told she was beautiful. Joseph did not love her for her face or her figure. A good thing too, she thought, chuckling to herself. These things fade quickly. She was in her autumn years now. Winter would soon arrive.
She heard the familiar creak of the floorboard outside the door and smiled. She always welcomed a visitor. Her grandson Jaden's head appeared. "Mum said to tell you we're going ice skating," he said seriously. Ruth's heart lurched, but she steadied herself. "Will you be OK on your own for a few hours?" She nodded, and he backed away, relieved.
"Wait!" Ruth called. "Why aren't you out enjoying this beautiful day, playing football or whatever boys do these days?" The head reappeared. "It's too hot, we want to cool off. Ice-skating's awesome!" Awesome was Jaden's favorite word at the moment. "Well, come and give your grandmother a kiss." She beckoned him over and pecked him on the cheek. Suddenly he hugged her, hard.
"I love you, Grandma." Ruth was touched. It wasn't often he displayed this much affection. She held him tight, until he squirmed.
"Uh- Grandma? I kinda have to go." She released him, and he bounded out of the room, throwing a hasty goodbye over his shoulder. Ruth laughed inwardly as she considered how ridiculous it was-ice skating in summer? And indoors? It just wasn't natural, she decided, how when they were blessed with such glorious days, people preferred to spend their time indoors. And time was so precious. She realized that now - life was too short to waste.
She had been married at eighteen, in the little village church, which had been transformed into a bower with innumerable flowers covering every available surface. The summer day had dawned bright and beautiful, as if God himself smiled on their union. She had dressed in a simple ivory dress edged with lace and felt the luckiest woman in the world. When she saw her husband-to-be standing at the altar, so tall and proud and full of love, her heart nearly burst from the joy of it all. The first few months passed as if in a dream, and soon there was a baby on the way. Anne had been born on a crisp autumn day, the loveliest baby Ruth had laid eyes on. She and Joseph had doted on their tiny daughter.
A soft tread in the hallway signaled another visitor. Ruth's face creased into a broad smile as she realized who it was. Rachel was her granddaughter, a pretty and serious eight year old. She had her mother's determined mouth but her grandfather's gentle eyes. Quietly she stepped inside and carefully closed the door.
"I drew you a picture, Grandma." she grinned, placing a sheet of paper on Ruth's lap. Rachel wanted to be an artist when she grew up, and certainly her sketches were those of someone beyond her years. It was a drawing of Ruth, surrounded by her family, all smiling.
"What is it? Don't you like it?" she exclaimed as tears began to form in the elderly woman's eyes.
"No, it's not that. It's beautiful." The picture showed them standing in a snow scene.
"You said it was too hot for you, so I drew this to make you feel cooler. And to remind you that it'll be winter soon," Rachel laughed.
That winter was the coldest Ruth could call to mind, the bitter wind biting at your flesh and freezing every breath you took. Still, they had brightened the dreary days by spending time together. The lake at the foot of their garden froze over, as it did every year, and she and Joseph would skate upon it almost every day. She loved to feel the wind paint roses on her cheeks, feel her hair stream out behind her as she shot along. Joseph would often chide her to be careful, as she swooped too close, in his opinion, towards the weaker ice in the center of the lake. She often ignored him, confident in her own ability to discern the safety of the ice. One day, however, she was enjoying her skating so much that she paid no attention to where she was going. Her heart plunged as she felt it give way beneath her feet; she screamed and gasped, clawed frantically as the current tugged at her legs. In a flash Joseph was beside her, inching across the ice on his belly. It seemed hours before she was out of that terrible hole. Scrambling for shore, sobbing, she turned to look for her husband. But the lake was empty. Joseph was gone.
Looking back, Ruth wondered how she had survived those days. Her own parents were dead, so she was completely alone, a widow at nineteen years old. She had to bring Anne up without a father. She wished her daughter could have known Joseph. She had visited the grave every weekend, until she became too old to make the journey. She imagined the grave, lonely, the flowers withered. For why should Anne visit the tombstone of a stranger? Still, at least she would be with Joseph soon. She considered all the blessings she had to be thankful for, and after all, death was just a journey, that everyone took eventually. She had learned long ago that death was not something to be feared, unless all of life was spent in awful anticipation. It was something to be accepted, something that made you stronger. She only hoped that her family would not miss her too much. But then, they too would soon be making the journey, taking her place in the endless circle.
"Mother! Mother!" It was Anne, her eldest daughter. Rapping impatiently on the door, she marched into the room bearing a tray on which steamed Ruth's lunch. Her mother gently thanked her and she smiled and stroked the outstretched hand, her eyes softening as she felt its frailty. Then she turned and left as quickly as she had come. Ruth was alone again; the peace shattered like the smooth surface of a pond after a pebble has been thrown and disturbed it. Anne had always been flighty, she mused, as she spooned up the unidentifiable mush, which tasted better than it looked. Marrying Mark without her permission. She had known he was not the kind of man she would have wanted for her daughter. Still, she had to admit, he had been a good provider - her grandchildren wanted for nothing. In her day she wouldn't have dreamed of courting a man behind her parents back. Thankfully they had approved of her choice. Joseph was the kind of man impossible to find nowadays, sincere, gentlemanly, but with a merry twinkle in his eye. She had met him whilst walking back from town, carrying far too many packages, filled with materials to make beautiful dresses-cherry red, sage green, daffodil yellow.
"May I help you?" he had offered. She had accepted gratefully, reaching to take the warm brown hand. Soon they were seeing each other every day. She had several suitors and had often been told she was beautiful. Joseph did not love her for her face or her figure. A good thing too, she thought, chuckling to herself. These things fade quickly. She was in her autumn years now. Winter would soon arrive.
She heard the familiar creak of the floorboard outside the door and smiled. She always welcomed a visitor. Her grandson Jaden's head appeared. "Mum said to tell you we're going ice skating," he said seriously. Ruth's heart lurched, but she steadied herself. "Will you be OK on your own for a few hours?" She nodded, and he backed away, relieved.
"Wait!" Ruth called. "Why aren't you out enjoying this beautiful day, playing football or whatever boys do these days?" The head reappeared. "It's too hot, we want to cool off. Ice-skating's awesome!" Awesome was Jaden's favorite word at the moment. "Well, come and give your grandmother a kiss." She beckoned him over and pecked him on the cheek. Suddenly he hugged her, hard.
"I love you, Grandma." Ruth was touched. It wasn't often he displayed this much affection. She held him tight, until he squirmed.
"Uh- Grandma? I kinda have to go." She released him, and he bounded out of the room, throwing a hasty goodbye over his shoulder. Ruth laughed inwardly as she considered how ridiculous it was-ice skating in summer? And indoors? It just wasn't natural, she decided, how when they were blessed with such glorious days, people preferred to spend their time indoors. And time was so precious. She realized that now - life was too short to waste.
She had been married at eighteen, in the little village church, which had been transformed into a bower with innumerable flowers covering every available surface. The summer day had dawned bright and beautiful, as if God himself smiled on their union. She had dressed in a simple ivory dress edged with lace and felt the luckiest woman in the world. When she saw her husband-to-be standing at the altar, so tall and proud and full of love, her heart nearly burst from the joy of it all. The first few months passed as if in a dream, and soon there was a baby on the way. Anne had been born on a crisp autumn day, the loveliest baby Ruth had laid eyes on. She and Joseph had doted on their tiny daughter.
A soft tread in the hallway signaled another visitor. Ruth's face creased into a broad smile as she realized who it was. Rachel was her granddaughter, a pretty and serious eight year old. She had her mother's determined mouth but her grandfather's gentle eyes. Quietly she stepped inside and carefully closed the door.
"I drew you a picture, Grandma." she grinned, placing a sheet of paper on Ruth's lap. Rachel wanted to be an artist when she grew up, and certainly her sketches were those of someone beyond her years. It was a drawing of Ruth, surrounded by her family, all smiling.
"What is it? Don't you like it?" she exclaimed as tears began to form in the elderly woman's eyes.
"No, it's not that. It's beautiful." The picture showed them standing in a snow scene.
"You said it was too hot for you, so I drew this to make you feel cooler. And to remind you that it'll be winter soon," Rachel laughed.
That winter was the coldest Ruth could call to mind, the bitter wind biting at your flesh and freezing every breath you took. Still, they had brightened the dreary days by spending time together. The lake at the foot of their garden froze over, as it did every year, and she and Joseph would skate upon it almost every day. She loved to feel the wind paint roses on her cheeks, feel her hair stream out behind her as she shot along. Joseph would often chide her to be careful, as she swooped too close, in his opinion, towards the weaker ice in the center of the lake. She often ignored him, confident in her own ability to discern the safety of the ice. One day, however, she was enjoying her skating so much that she paid no attention to where she was going. Her heart plunged as she felt it give way beneath her feet; she screamed and gasped, clawed frantically as the current tugged at her legs. In a flash Joseph was beside her, inching across the ice on his belly. It seemed hours before she was out of that terrible hole. Scrambling for shore, sobbing, she turned to look for her husband. But the lake was empty. Joseph was gone.
Looking back, Ruth wondered how she had survived those days. Her own parents were dead, so she was completely alone, a widow at nineteen years old. She had to bring Anne up without a father. She wished her daughter could have known Joseph. She had visited the grave every weekend, until she became too old to make the journey. She imagined the grave, lonely, the flowers withered. For why should Anne visit the tombstone of a stranger? Still, at least she would be with Joseph soon. She considered all the blessings she had to be thankful for, and after all, death was just a journey, that everyone took eventually. She had learned long ago that death was not something to be feared, unless all of life was spent in awful anticipation. It was something to be accepted, something that made you stronger. She only hoped that her family would not miss her too much. But then, they too would soon be making the journey, taking her place in the endless circle.
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