The Old Man

The countryside lay all about in its early morning splendor. Old man winter was slowly being stored away for another year and he thought he could catch the scent of spring upon the air. The animal life, such as he could still care for on this ancient farm, was awake and demanding attention. He smiled, sitting now at the little table beside the window that looked out upon it all.

He and his wife had spent many mornings in this very spot. At times their hands had reached out, joining together in the space between them. More often then not, they had gloried in the gift of another day that lay ahead, just for the taking. It seemed like yesterday she’d been so alive and full of love for him, for long grown and gone children. They’d built many wonderful memories between them. He missed her but life went on and she would not have wanted him to mourn. They’d be together….one day.

A hint of blue color was there near the barn and he slipped his thick glasses up over his eyes from where they’d slipped, as if at rest upon his nose. Could it be a Blue Jay out there? Yes, indeed it was and it stood as if in silent tribute to the sounds of life in the barnyard. Chickens clucked and the old rooster strutted around an Oak tree by the roadway to the left. He wondered why he kept the old cow that mooed to be milked and knew it wasn’t for the milk. He sure couldn’t drink it all by himself. He used some of it, but not much for preparing his meals. He never had learned how to cook more then he had to, just to survive. Guess he just needed the novelty of feeling needed by something close to hand. He talked to it each morning and evening, as he settled his old arthritic self onto the three-legged stool for the required milking. It relaxed them both, he thought.

He wondered if they had kitchens in Heaven and barnyards. He could picture his sweetheart being busy there, or maybe she would be out in a vegetable patch. Perhaps she’d be tending some roses. He knew she’d be occupied with something. He missed the odor of biscuits and gravy she’d made special each Sunday morning for him. They’d not always made it into the city for church, but church had been there for them both all the same. The old man bowed his head over the cup of coffee now before him, starting his day with prayer as always

. That was how the Pastor had found him later that day. His eyes were closed and head bent down in prayerful attitude. He’d worn a smile and seemed so at peace. Now more then a year had passed and a young couple looked over that same land now offered up for sale. They saw past the faded paint of the home and outbuildings and smiled together at the possibilities that were there. Their little ones ran through grass that came to their waist. The sound of their laughter echoed pleasantly back and upon their ears. “Honey, let’s make an offer on this place. There is such a sense of love here. We could put a table there by that window in the kitchen and watch the day come to life before us.” The young woman stretched out her hand to him through the space between them, as they stood in the wonderful shade of the old home. A Blue Jay flew overhead and landed in an old Oak tree. Life lay everywhere for the taking. Spring was in the air.