With This Ring

Rivers of tears flooded the highways of happy wrinkles mapping Ted’s face. The well worn path to the massive white oak was not far, but the weight of grief and regret threatened to snap Ted’s beautiful red oak cane. His search for signs from his late wife Lois slowed his pace.

Beneath the oak, a wooden bench with a faded etching beckoned: ‘Return and Rest.’ However, it was no longer sturdy enough to support even the old widower’s thin frame. Ted placed his cane against the familiar trunk and patted the grizzled bark.

Oakley, with wrinkles of his own and a smile that reached his voice, welcomed Ted. “I hoped you’d come to visit me. We haven’t talked since just after the storm. It’s been quiet without our gals.”

Ted squawked his reply around the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you old friend. My last days are near and I need your help. I’ll soon be reunited with Lois, but I’m afraid to face her. I made such a terrible mistake leaving her to die alone. I sure disappointed her.”

“You know I’m here for you. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. When I lost Red that same night, I knew my heartwood would never be the same.”

Ted wiped ready tears, croaking, “I still can’t believe they’re gone. Sixty years ago I promised Lois I’d never leave her side.”

The seasoned oak replied, “Our time together is never long enough.”

“Any words of wisdom for me, Oakley? I wish with all my heart for a do-over.”

“Be careful what you ask for,” Oakley cautioned, “because you just might get it. Things aren't always what they seem.”

“I know you’re the wisest of trees and you’d do anything for me, but being able to go back in time—it’s out of your scope… isn’t it? How can I make things right?”

Oakley gathered himself and gestured to the nearby stump of the red oak. “Like the saying goes, ‘You grow through what you go through.’ When you face your mistakes, you never know what you’ll learn.”

Ted was skeptical but desperate to be forgiven by Lois for leaving her bedside during her final moments. He retrieved the cane and shuffled to the timber base.

Oakley guided Ted, “I can show you where to look, but it’s up to you what you see. For all of our years, Red and I have captured the yellow days, tough times, changes, and growth. Red has your answer.”

Ted laid his cane on the dry grass, which tickled the sides of Red’s colorful table. He hadn’t visited his wife’s cherished spot since he had cut and cleared Oakley’s partner’s trunk and branches two months prior. That effort had taken the last of his strength—from the physical exertion to the heart-wrenching farewell to his lifelong friend. Ted knelt and leaned in, his forehead melding with the still fragrant growth rings. He inhaled the banded tapestry.

***

Wind stirred the late summer leaves, joining the swirl of scenes flowing from the portal: A feisty and spirited Lois, jealous of a woman named Red, until she learned why Ted was called a ‘Tree-Hugger’; the teens carving their initials into Red’s trunk to celebrate their engagement; Lois teaching Red how to fly a kite from her tiara of deep emerald-tipped branches; and the double acorn Red dropped onto Lois’ bouquet during their vows. Ted again marveled at the bond Lois and Red shared, and how they would go to the end of the earth for one another.

***

Fresh tears splashed the wood. They sprouted from Ted’s bleary eyes, not only from seeing his bride from so long ago, but realizing Red still held the log of their life’s journey. Every day had been a gift, but he was immensely ashamed by one last decision.

Ted pleaded, “Oakley, how can I change the end? There has to be a way!”

Oakley encouraged Ted to find the last entry in the annals. “You have to face your fears and learn from your mistakes. Even if it shakes you to your roots.”

Ted caressed the final growth ring and looked deep into the well that recorded Lois’ and Red’s last day. He hesitated in reliving his broken vow, but yearned to change what he had done.

***

Thunder went unheard as Ted moved the worn chair closer to the hospice bed. Lois tried to summon her spunk from days past, focusing her remaining strength on squeezing Ted’s hand.

“Oh Teddy, we’ve been through so many adventures together. I’ve loved every one of them. I don’t think duct tape is going to fix it this time.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Lo. We’ve weathered many storms, and we’ll get through this one, too.”

Thunder rumbled, louder and much closer, rattling the lead glass windows.

“You’ve seen me through so many months of fighting this damn cancer. When we were married out by Oakley and Red, I never knew our vows would be so tested.” Lois drew a raggedy breath. “You’ve been glued to my bedside for days. Why don’t you get some rest?”

Ted teased, “Only if you promise not to snore. I’ll be right here.” He rested his cheek on Lois’ open palm and immediately fell asleep.

Lois watched her husband, taking in his peppery whiskers, calloused hands, and leathery skin. She whispered, “You’ve given me such joy and taught me to enjoy the detours along the way. I’ve done most of the things on my bucket list, and now I’m ready to kick that bucket…but I don’t want to break your heart when I go.”

A javelin of a lightning bolt, with its smell of ozone and immediate thunder, jolted Ted awake. “Whoa! That was close!”

Lois hid an odd look. “I think it might have hit Oakley or Red. Can you go check on them?”

Ted shook his head. “I won’t leave you Lo. Not even for a minute.”

Lois was weak but insisted, “Go on, Hon. I’ll always be right here. Please go make sure they’re OK.”

Ted was conflicted, standing, sitting, then standing again. Finally he gave Lois a kiss and promised to hurry back.

Lois thought, That must be the sign I was looking for… I can’t believe Red’s plan worked—to pull Ted away from my bedside. I hung on all this time for him… so it wouldn’t hurt him so badly when I left this world.

Lois sighed one last time, like a candle gently being blown out. Her body went slack, her face calm and sporting a small smile.

One last rumble of thunder greeted Ted, gutted and weeping under Oakley and next to the toppled bench. Lightning had delivered a lethal strike to Red, her trunk still smoldered, limbs scattered.

Red shuddered and gasped, “I’ve said goodbye to Oakley, be strong for him. Ted, promise me: I want to be an organ donor. Put my wood to good use. Make an arbor for the farm, a cane to help guide you, and a nice box for Lois…”

***

Ted collapsed on Red’s stump, shaking with disbelief in learning how the girls had teamed to pull off their plan.

Oakley consoled him, “They’re still here you know: in the songs of the birds they fed, in all of the lives they impacted, and in their example.”

Ted had chosen a section of Red’s remains that had knots and scars, displaying the character the friends had shared.

“I put Lo’s ashes in the box, along with the double acorn she had kept all these years. I made a lid from the bark where we carved our initials. Red must have known I would need her cane to bring me to you, Oakley.”

Wind rustled the first of the fall leaves.

Oakley asked, “Do you hear that? What are the girls telling you?”

“They’re reminding me to do something every day that makes me feel alive. And that things really aren't always what they seem.”

He hugged Oakley one last time and whispered, “You’ve always been a massive fixture in my life, in more ways than one. Thank you, my friend. I will never forget how you made me feel.”

Ted’s shoulders dropped with the immense weight lifted. He was ready to be reunited with Lois. Vibrations from the cane reached his heart. It softly glimmered as he hooked it around a branch close to Oakley’s trunk. Ted turned, then slowly made his way home.

***

In the warm embrace of spring's yellow rays, Oakley stood sentinel over an eight-inch seedling that had emerged beside the buried treasure of his beloved friends. Its tender leaves already sported a familiar hint of red.