In Sickness and in Health

This was a bad idea. They should not be out here in the cold. Holland knew better than to let her talk him into this, but he was finding it harder and harder to deny her. In Marylynn’s state, all it would take was one misstep on a spot of frozen pavement and wham! It would be weeks of stagnant living, rehabilitation, and even more of the constant medical appointments that already seemed to fill their days.

Or worse.

Holland and Marylynn shuffled through the park, taking their time to avoid the growing piles of snow that gathered like dust on the ground. Holland clutched Marylynn’s gloved hand tightly and shook his head. He ventured a grumpy glance in Marylynn’s direction and his glower softened at her expression.

Marylynn’s face tilted towards the dying sun. As the dappled light passed over her eyes, she closed them and sighed inwardly with satisfaction. The warm sun danced over her cold cheeks, and she felt a youthful spirit stir in her in a way she had not felt in years. Snowflakes fell lazily, slowly twirling around her and Holland, showing off their minty glint. 

Fifty-three years was a long time to love someone, Marylynn reflected. She couldn’t believe she had been only twenty-two years old when she had agreed to marry the handsome brooding soldier who had somehow managed to sweep her off her feet during a single dinner date. They were wed three months later in the spring of 1968. Their marriage took place on the eve of Dr. King’s assassination, a single bright day before months of America’s mourning. Her giddy happiness had seemed so inappropriate at the time. Marylynn remembered trying to mute her girlish smiles during her daily errands while thinking about her new husband back at home, relishing her newfound role as a Wife and Homemaker. She gave Holland’s rigid fist a squeeze and leaned into his shoulder as they walked under the icy beech trees that lined the path. Marylynn pushed away thoughts about her future, and tried to appreciate the coziness of this frosty winter day. 

It was a wonderful relief to be able to walk in silence with someone. Holland never could find the value in the idle chatter that filled most relationships. Marylynn’s comfort with simply being was what drew him to her. Holland recalled how calm Marylynn had been during the drive home after learning of her terminal cancer. Inside, Holland’s thoughts had ping-ponged frantically between trying to find a solution to this unsolvable problem and the crushing sadness he felt at the impending loss of his wife. Holland remembered how Marylynn had gazed out the car window at the passing world and wordlessly reached for his hand across the center console. She had sat like that for the duration of the whole ride. When they finally pulled into their garage, she turned to face Holland with tears streaming down her face and said simply,  

“I know this is scary. But it is going to be okay.” 

That was five months ago. Since that afternoon, their lives had been a whirlwind of hospital visits, endless reading on experimental treatments, and the near constant visits from friends and family. Holland knew their loved ones meant well, but it felt like his life was one drawn-out funeral receiving line. Each time someone greeted him, they would tilt their head ever so slightly and sadness would tinge the edges of their smile, pity pouring from their eyes. Holland hated that look. He didn’t need the reminder that Marylynn’s days were numbered, that he would soon be without his wife. 

Both Holland and Marylynn were so sick of it they decided they needed a break. Marylynn suggested they travel east to Holland’s hometown for a vacation, stating that she wanted to see the snow this year. Holland heard her unspoken desire: Marylynn wished to see the snow one last time. So the pair packed up their bags and traded the warm winter sun of their San Diego home for the biting Maine frost.

He wrapped an arm around his wife and begrudgingly acknowledged the beauty of the afternoon to himself. Holland had not strolled through this park in years, and found he was glad to be here despite the cold. 

He raised a mittened hand towards a snow bank near the far end of the park.

“I learned to sled right there,” Holland told Marylynn. Marylynn lifted her head off Holland’s shoulder and squinted towards the hill. Marylynn looked at Holland and raised one dubious eyebrow. “I did! I was a sledding machine,” Holland boasted to his skeptical wife.

“Well this I have to see!” Marylynn exclaimed, and tugged Holland towards the little knoll. 

Marylynn had sometimes wondered what her stoic husband was like as a child. It was hard to imagine Holland ever getting into mischief, with his rigid military posture and no nonsense attitude. She had caught glimpses of his boyish youth when they raised their own son. Marylynn smiled at the memory of Holland teaching Henry how to build forts and “fight aliens” in their living room. 

The two made it to the park’s edge and stopped at the base of the little hill. Children excitedly whooshed down the mini bank on sleds and saucers, spinning like tops in the shallow valley at the bottom. Marylynn could see mothers huddled together nearby, chatting and sipping steaming thermoses, calling out the occasional cheer. Marylynn and Holland stood arm in arm, observing the ruckus. 

“Well, they are doing it all wrong!” Holland said playfully to Marylynn. He smiled as one boy abandoned his saucer halfway down the hill in favor of rolling like a log to the bottom. The boy lay giggling on the ground, happily wriggling in the snowy drifts. After several shouts to, “Get out of the way!” the little boy scampered up and ran to the backside of the hill, eager for another turn. 

“Oh really now? Are we going to get a lesson in proper sledding technique from a professional?” Marylynn elbowed Holland and laughed. Marylynn was certain Holland wouldn’t be caught dead doing something as frivolous as sledding. 

Holland looked at his wife and was struck by her beauty. Marylynn’s cheeks were rosy from the cold and drops of frost glittered in her grey curls. Her flirtatious smile took years off her face and she glowed with a lightness he hadn’t seen since before her diagnosis. Her joy was palpable, and Holland felt he would give anything to preserve this moment. He wished he could bottle up this feeling of levity to draw from in the coming months. Holland stared into Marylynn’s cheerful eyes and decided he wanted to see more of that smile. 

“Yes ma’am!” Holland walked to the nearby pair of trash bins and removed their aluminum tops. He returned, lids in tow, to a bewildered Marylynn. 

“What are you-”  Marylynn spluttered as Holland decisively grabbed her hand and marched up the backside of the hill. “Holland!” Marylynn let out a happy shriek as he confidently guided the two of them to the peak. 

“I can’t have you doubting my sledding skills,” Holland said in mock seriousness. He placed the two upturned lids side by side and gestured for Marylynn to take a seat. Holland plopped down with surprising agility and settled himself regally on the bin lid. The children at the top of the hill quieted, suddenly aware of the elderly couple next to them. 

“May we have a turn?” Holland asked a boy who was poised on his sled, ready to dive head first down the hill. The boy stared in the stunned way children do during an unexpected encounter with a grown-up. He mutely nodded and backed his sled away from the edge. Marylynn remained standing, not believing her husband was serious about sledding down the snowy bank. Holland looked up at her expectantly.

“Well? Are you going to join me?” A sly smile creeped into his question and he held his hand out to help her sit. Marylynn hesitated a moment, then carefully took Holland’s outstretched hand. She lowered herself daintily down to the second lid. Marylynn’s legs intuitively tucked themselves, her body having some vague memory of perching atop a plastic saucer a lifetime ago. 

“Are you sure about this?” Marylynn asked Holland tentatively, both hope and doubt clear in her voice. Holland had been so protective of her increasingly fragile body that she was skeptical he would abandon caution like this.

The waver in Marylynn’s eyes broke Holland’s heart. A year ago, his vivacious wife would have jumped at the opportunity to do something spontaneous and silly. Now, she measured her tone, wary he would quickly rescind his offer. Holland hoped he could recapture the smile that had so naturally slid across Marylynn’s lips earlier.

 “Unless you are too scared to lose to an old fart like me!” Holland roared, eliciting giggles from the watching crowd at the word, “Fart.” Holland scooted his lid just to the edge of the bank and looked back at Marylynn. She laughed and pushed herself alongside Holland. 

Without another word, Marylynn tilted herself over the edge and felt the aluminum rumble beneath her as she started to pick up speed. Her hair whipped around her face and the rush of wind around her was intoxicating. Next to her, she could hear Holland whooping as they skid down the hillside. Nearing the bottom, a slight bump sent them both spinning off their lids, and Marylynn gave a childlike squeal as she tumbled. The pair were a tangled mass of puffy-clothing clad limbs, and they lay panting from laughter in a heap.  

Holland planted a quick kiss on Marylynn’s cheek and smiled. Marylynn felt as free and light as the snow drifting softy around them. She relished the intense vibrancy of life that was coursing through her veins, unencumbered by any anxiety of illness. She lay her head on Holland’s chest and they sighed in contentment, lying still for a moment in the powdery snow.