“Bye, you guys. Love you both,” I said as I walked out the door.
That was the last time I’d ever see Robin alive.
Six Years Earlier
“Can you believe this view? It’s absolutely stunning,” Linda said, as she opened up the glass doors that led to the second-story deck. The deck seemed to wrap around the entire second story of the house, and the views it offered were spectacular.
The house we had rented was nestled comfortably in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, and from the deck you could see the Chattahoochee River wind its way through the city of Helen off in the distance. I always loved listening to a river flow wildly, the sounds of the rapids echoing through the forest of trees. This may have been the best river there was to sit and enjoy.
We had made the drive up to Helen, Georgia, after doing a lot of research trying to find the perfect solitary place with an amazing view. The doctors didn’t recommend the drive, said the travel would be stressful for Carrie, but it had been her idea in the first place, so I made it happen.
It was early July, and the doctors had basically given us our two-week warning. They said it was time to say goodbye and prepare for the end. Carrie’s idea of preparing for the end was going to a place where we could sit and be together, away from everything.
“I always pictured myself dying somewhere peaceful,” she had once said. “Surrounded by trees and mountains and just soaking in God’s beautiful creation.”
That obviously had not been Florida, so with the help of her parents, I was able to find somewhere relatively close where we could go and spend her final days. Her parents made the drive up with us and were going to stay at a small cabin a little further down the mountain.
When we contacted the people responsible for renting out the property, I was shocked to hear the price. I assumed it wasn’t going to happen, but Linda called them and explained the situation, and had miraculously managed to get the price down to something remotely reasonable. I was prepared to pay, but somehow Walt and Robin had caught wind of what we were doing and paid for everything. They even told the landlords to let us stay as long as we wanted. I wasn’t sure what I had done to be lucky enough to meet such a wonderful couple, but each day I grew more and more thankful for them.
I built a fire even though it was still late afternoon, and Linda said goodbye to us both. Carrie’s dad Bill had already gone down to their cabin to unpack. It wasn’t going to be too cold that evening, but everything felt cool or cold to Carrie, so I knew building a fire would keep her warm and comfortable.
There was a large recliner in one of the living rooms, and Carrie laughed as I tried to drag it across the house so that it would be in front of the fireplace. It wasn’t as easy as I had predicted it would be, and Carrie resisted the urge to say, “I told you so.” But it was worth it once I got it in front of the fire.
I walked Carrie over to it and sat down first, lowering her down onto my lap. I held her close as we sat in front of the fire. We had always wanted to come to a place like this, and it was bittersweet that we had finally gotten the chance to make that little dream of ours come true.
“It’s weird, you know,” she said. “I always imagined some day we would be huddled in front of a fire like this, enjoying a big empty house all to ourselves. Only I imagined us with gray hair and wrinkles. And with kids who had all moved out.”
“So, in your fantasy, we are empty nesters? Kind of a lame fantasy if you ask me.”
She jabbed me in the stomach with her bony elbow and laughed.
“It wasn’t my only fantasy. Just the most calming. What was one of yours?”
I didn’t like this game, not then, not ever. I hated thinking about all the things I wasn’t going to get to experience with her. Maybe it was selfish, since she was the one who would never get to experience them. I might, someday, with someone else. But I hated even the thought of that.
“Come on, tell me.”
I hesitated some more.
“If you don’t tell me, I’m going to elbow you again. These bones are sharp!”
“Okay, okay, no need for spousal abuse,” I said. “I always imagined us having a boy, and taking him to his Saturday morning baseball games. We would sit in lawn chairs under a tree, away from all the crazy parents in the stands.”
“Would we be mocking the other parents?”
“You know it.” I smiled.
“Well, what if I didn’t want our son playing baseball? What if I decided he would make a better boy scout? Or, better yet, a jockey! You love horses!”
“Then, I am pretty sure I would have locked you up the day I took him to sign up for a sport.”