Nature

Lilly has chosen to spend some of her remaining life in the family cabin alone, to gather her strength and face her fate. Her parents strongly object, but with their blessing she retreats to nature.

"I'm going" It was the final time she would say it, her words concrete and mind fixed. They could see it. Her mother's reddened eyes finally spilled quick tears that were to be contained no longer.

The doctors had told her that she had months to live on chemo, or a few weeks of living life somewhat normally. Before Lilly ever looked back at her parents, the decision was made as the doctor's grim and inevitable words were spoken, She was an adult, and she could do this.

"Not alone, not out there." Her mother sputtered through moistened lips. Her husband placing a firm arm around her. His silky chestnut hair that made him look not a day over thirty finally gave way to grays in the past year. He was forty-eight. They had first suspected a tumor, then it turned out to be cancer. It had already riddled her body and brain; quickly, silently. No one was prepared for the news, and the reality of it all finally emerged when she had been given that timeframe. The words of the doctor tore the thin golden veil of hope that this was all a bad nightmare or a fluke, and revealed the swallowing darkness, the utter weight of the reality. It plunged them into a blackness that could never be flooded by light, not even the powerful rays from heaven could reach this depth.

She was resolved. Not a thing could change her mind. She couldn't live around them. They reeked of despair, and that wasn't how she wanted to live the rest of her shortened life. A never-ending wave of calmness had come over her a few days ago, allowing her to think of other things than death, if only for a little while. There was hope that her last days on Earth wouldn't all be grim and fleeting. Time's sand slipping through her fingers before she could catch it was what she had felt. Now, she could lift her head and grasp time as she used to. She knew she would lose it if they kept on like this.

Her father was a handsome man, undoubtedly. His hair came to his shoulders when it wasn't tied back, straight and always clean with lighter highlights streaking it in the summer. He never wore a close shave, yet he never had a beard. His face was somewhat weather-beaten, and there were lines when he smiled. His  amber eyes always sparkled, especially when he spoke of nature. He worked in nature conservation for the great forests of Wyoming, which suited his modern mountain man appearance. Her mother was a soft and kind woman with golden hair that curled past her back. She had the most intense emerald eyes with always a welcoming light in them. People naturally felt at ease in her presence.

"Lilly," It was hard for her father to speak.

 

A lump formed in Lilly's throat, to see him weak was painful, but she pressed it down. She had inherited his remarkable control over emotions. "I don't like the idea... I want every waking moment to be spent with you. But... we cannot control your time here," Her mother shot him a horrified glance, then was seized with a sob. Lilly swallowed hard, pinching the skin on her wrist to ward off the tears. "You do what you need to, love. And we will be here for you every step of the way. We always will." He choked on the words. His lip slipped into his mouth and his face reddened.

Of course they never wanted her to go; why should they? Every second was precious. How could they lose their baby girl? They should never leave her side, taking her out to see all the places they promised they would. All those promises that could never be fulfilled because it was too late. Time was running out.

She swore to be strong, swore to the stars that she would shed a tear at the most, but it was of course in vain. Sorrow was at bay, the tears were streaming down as she packed her baby blue Fiesta with clothing, CDs, a stereo, books and the food she had bought earlier in the morning. It was noon now, she needed a head-start incase the weather decided  turn; which it felt it might. The good-byes were too much, more emotional than she wanted them to be. They would visit every day they promised, but she felt as if she were going for good.

Her suppressed wails were now unleashed as she drove down the road, out of sight of the house. She banged the steering wheel repeatedly, cursing and sobbing, crying out to God in what she knew were unheard prayers. Shots in the dark. Her faith was hanging by a thread.

The winding road to the cabin calmed her. The sway of the car as she pushed the speedometer to round turns, the air rushing in through the cracked window, the sunlight streaming through the overgrowth and spotting the black pavement with treasured golden pools of light, all of it energized her, and she was soon teeming with joy. The tall evergreens whipped past her, and where there was a break in the tree line, a magnificent view was revealed. Swift rivers shimmering in the sun and sloping mountains, cliffs and meadows as far as the eye could see.

She was at home, at peace. Nature was her sanctuary, her church, her school and her divine home. She loved the smell of fresh earth and rain in the air, the eternal energy that pulsed through every living thing great or small, and the relentless cycle of life and death. She needed to be near it. In it. Breathing it. She needed so see how life went on once death had its way, she needed to know, or rather be reminded, that the energy of life is never lost but rather it changes form. Yes. That was comforting.

The cabin sat in the lovely afternoon light. Trees had been cleared away long ago and tended to by her father. Only high, tender grass and dainty mountain flowers stood between her and this refuge. The cabin was large for its time, being right at one hundred years old. The thick logs were gray and green, moss that had grown from the recent rains, and thick ribbons of white sealing together the logs. The roof had been redone a few times, but had now a slight slope to it. It would hold well though.

Her father put a lot into the cabin, because his great-grand father had built it when his wife was expecting. There was a kitchen with a gas stove and running water, sturdy new furniture that had been put in place only two years ago, and a fire place in the living room for which wood was already stacked on the porch. Lilly immediately felt at peace.