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Inspired by the song “Song for the Life “ by Alan Jackson
Jon Gardner sat on his front
porch. In his late eighties, he had been
retired for many years and had spent a typical day such as he did today.
Puffy white clouds scattered
across the sky. Leaves of orange and
brown filled the trees in his yard. It
hadn’t been stormy lately, but he could expect it within the next week.
Every morning he awoke before the
sun. He still drank coffee in the
mornings, but in the restful afternoons, he would sip sweet tea and look upon
his lustrously landscaped yard.
Today he got up as 5:30 in the
early morning and made himself a cup of coffee.
He walked into his kitchen after getting out of bed, boiled water, and
mixed it with instant decaf coffee. It
was cold this morning and he looked upon the frost on the window, timid about facing
the daunting day. Not to worry, it would
warm up later today and he would be able to spend the afternoon in his usual
fashion.
Jon’s wife had died five years
back. It had been a painful time in his
life, she had been sick for a few years.
They had been married since they were both in their early twenties and
he had been unable to envision a life without her by his side. Yet, his fortitude allowed him to go on.
He sat on his porch today, sipping
sweet tea he had made the day before. His
life of solitude brought with it, peace.
He could remember, despite his
years, the day of his wedding and his beautiful young wife, Jessica. It was more than sixty years ago, but he
could remember it with clarity of sight.
The memory often brought tears to his eyes as he sat on his front porch. On an early spring afternoon, he had stood at
the front of the church which was filled to capacity with friends and
family. His best man and best friend,
Thomas, stood next to him.
The music began to play and his
beautiful wife, wearing a long, white wedding gown, walked arm and arm down the
aisle with her father as he prepared to give her away to marriage.
It was a long time ago, yet he
remembered it clearly. They had spent
their honeymoon on Long Island along the eastern shoreline.
He thought of the many years with
his wife as he sat enjoying this early autumn afternoon. He took another sip of his sweet tea. Yesterday, in the early afternoon, he had put
a jug of water mixed with sugar and tea on the ledge and let it brew in the sun
for hours.
Memories, once again, began to
take hold of his thoughts. Their first
child, a son named David, had been born a year and a half after they were
married. David had long since been
married himself. He had his own children
who had their own children, which now made Jon a great-grandfather.
David was Jon and Jessica’s first
of three children. Michael and Tammy
were his other children and they had also been married for many years.
As Jon sat, memories continued to
run through his mind. He took another
sip of his sweet tea. He remembered one
particular Christmas. It was only one of
the many that he spent with his three children and his wife. They were all in their early childhood and Jon
and Jessica were in their early thirties.
It was the early 1960’s and along with the many toys and dolls given as
gifts to their children, Jon and Jessica bought a color television for the
family.
The Christmas tree was in the
living room, highly adorned with decorations.
After the individual gifts were given to each member of the family, Jon
went into the garage where he rolled in a brand-new color television which had
been kept secret from the children.
It brought joy and happiness to
his family for many years.
Other memories crossed Jon’s
mind. All of his children and
grandchildren lived close, but he chose to live alone. They would visit him on many different
occasions. Holidays, such as Christmas
and Thanksgiving, would be spent with get-togethers which included the entire
family. However, this early autumn
morning was spent alone with Jon contemplating his past.
Once again, he thought of the day
of his wedding as he looked up into the sky and at the foliage in the front
yard. He stood at the front of the
church with his best man as Jessica and her father walked down the aisle. A veil covered her face, but it could not
conceal her beauty.
The preacher announced, “I now
pronounce you Man and Wife, you may kiss the bride.”
He looked to the front row on
noticed Jessica’s mother attempting to hide her tears. Jon lifted Jessica’s veil and softly kissed
his new bride with warmth and love.
Jon sat in the yard and took
another sip of sweat tea. His eyes grew
misty. The memories were those of joy,
not of pain. As an old man, he had lived
a complete life with nothing now but wonderful memories to cherish.
Jon took another sip of sweet tea. He thought to himself, “Looks like it is
going to rain later this week.”
inspired by the song "The Blues Man" by Alan Jackson
They walked together barefoot on
the beach. Without worry Michael knew
this was right. Hand in hand they
walked, the freedom he felt unchained the emotions in his heart that had long
been buried. Jennifer looked over her
left shoulder smiling upon him with sentiments that were true. The waves crashed in from the ocean and the
tide advanced to wet their feet between their toes. The footprints on the wet shore served as a
symbol to the feelings of togetherness that warmed Michael’s heart with passion
infused with tender care.
Three short years ago he sat
alone in his apartment. The romanticisms
that had been driven from his spirit had only left a longing for solitude and
self-sustained despair. He had started
drinking four years before and it now epitomized a meaningless existence. His
life of the past had been drowned by the solitary nightly ritual which had
evolved to desolation and anguish. His
past life served only as a reminder to the wretchedness that now encumbered his
life-blood.
He awoke one morning horrendously
spewing from the bottle of whiskey he had partaken in the night before. Blood as well as bile filled the toilet as he unwaveringly
awaited his next drink. Last night he
had watched an old movie that he haphazardly found on cable while he imbibed each painstaking swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. As his inebriation grew, he smoked cigarette
after cigarette. His thoughts quickly
succumbed to oblivion.
Three years ago Michael, typical
to his second-nature, awoke to his sickness compounded from an extra hefty dose
of alcohol the night before. After his
early morning consummation; he showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and put on
clean clothes.
Typical to a Saturday morning, he
drove his car to a nearby coffee shop for a cup of the remedy that would mildly
alleviate the magnitude of his hangover.
She stood in line in front of him.
Such an attractive young woman had no business smiling at him, yet she did.
It was she who initiated the
conversation. “I believe I have seen you
in here before,” she innocuously stated.
With the brightness of an early
Spring morning only accentuating the pain from last night’s drinking, he
responded with the requisite conversation.
“I come in here most mornings.”
He could remember her from last
week. He could not remember which day,
but he remembered her air of sincerity which enhanced her moderate beauty.
She spoke as if she had no
expectations and he tried to overcome the awkwardness of an inconsequential
meeting.
After a few short words of
introductions, she ordered her coffee and looked his way. She said to him, modestly, “I will probably
see you in here again. I notice that we
both come here most mornings.” Before he
could answer she said, “My name is Jennifer, what’s yours?”
He responded without nuances, “My
name is Michael.” As she walked out the
door, she turned back and offered him a warm smile.
He went back to his apartment
after finishing his coffee and a few cigarettes. On an early morning such as this it was
conventional to begin an early day of drinking.
He poured himself vodka with tomato juice and a heavy prescription of Tabasco Sauce. He once again yielded to his drunkenness and
an early night of sleep. However, as he
drank and watched the television, he thought of her genuine smile and it somehow
brought tenderness to his heart.
The next week they came across
each other on several occasions. At
first it was a few words of “hello,” but the attachment that he felt for her
grew with each meeting. Finally, a
couple of weeks after their first introductions, he managed to ask her out on a
date.
He invited, “Would you like to
see a movie with me next Friday?” It was
a clichéd and unconfidently proposed request, but she demurely accepted. They exchanged phone numbers with the
expectation of him picking her up at her apartment sometime after 7:00 on
Friday later that week.
He awoke that Friday morning with
no significant aspirations, but he still managed for the first time in years to
skip the morning ritual of alcoholism in favor of a few cups of coffee and a
barrage of cigarettes.
He picked her up at 7:00 later
that night with complete sobriety and a night of guarded expectations. It was a prospect for a budding relationship
which had been lacking in his life for longer than he cared to remember.
He knocked on her apartment
door. She was wearing a heavy dress of
cotton and she was primed for a night of growth in a relationship that she had
also been lacking.
She smiled at him. The feeling that struck his heart was
beginning to feel real. He walked her to
his car, innocently opening her door before he let himself him. She reached across to unlock his door. She was impressed with the gentlemanly
gesture which was not typical in a city such as this. He was also vaguely impressed with her gesture
which was somehow sincere.
Awkward silence accompanied their
first date. They listened to music that
was playing on the radio and began to settle in with each other. Small talk evolved from stillness. She spoke to him of her days at college. She told him, “I studied sociology in college
with a minor in communications.”
He continued the
conversation. “I went to college at Cal
State Los Angeles, too. I studied political
science, but haven’t done much with it since.”
“Where do you work?” she asked
him as the ice was slowly breaking from the point of uncomfortable silence.
“I am a communications consultant
for Citibank Financial Service,” he
stated to thinly disguise the fact that he answered phone calls all day.
They continued talking with one
another for a short time. They did not
talk about anything of any importance, but the chill of a new meeting began to
fade. They arrived at the theater, sat
close, and enjoyed the film together.
“I would like to see you again,”
he told her as he dropped her off at her apartment at the end of that
night.
In an unpretentious manner and
the affectionate gesture of a smile, she responded, “That would be very nice.”
Their meetings transformed into
once a week, then transformed to twice a week, and finally transformed to
nightly interaction including the prolific phone calls that they shared with
each other. As their relationship grew,
his drinking began to subside.
Their love strengthened and gave
him the courage to overcome the nightly habit of excessive inebriation that had
controlled his life.
It was not from any active
inciting from Jennifer that he was able to quit his drinking. When they met he had always managed to keep
himself sober. He did not mention his
days of drinking to her, but he finally had found something strong enough to
make him quit his pursuit of misery defined by such behavior. His
days and nights of drinking faded into the past. The warmth of love that Michael felt for
Jennifer transformed his once decaying life into one of joy.
They walked along the beach. It was almost dusk now and the Sun was
beginning to sink into the ocean. Their
footprints crossed across the wet sand on the beach. They held each other’s hands and enjoyed a
tranquil, peaceful moment of harmony.
His past days of alcoholism were
gone. He held her close and asked,
“Jennifer, will you marry me?”
She smiled at him as tears welled
up in her eyes. She kissed him gently
and said, “Michael, I will marry you.”
The Sun crept into the ocean as the waves broke
against the rocks. As Michael drove
Jennifer back to her apartment a smile filled both their hearts. A long-lasting love had brought the strength
to his life that Michael needed. The
desperate struggle of darkness was all but forgotten. He would now live his life with the clarity
of thought only possible for a man who has realized a fulfilled life.
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