Whenever You're Ready

“Taking it all in?”

His eyes shot open. In front of him stood a woman with golden hair that glistened in the light as the sun started to peek up over the horizon. Regaining focus, he saw her more clearly, her eyes a gorgeous crystal blue that could put the flowing water on the lake to shame. He finally mustered up a simple, “Huh?” 

“The sunrise. If you’re going to steal my spot on my favorite bench, I at least hope you’re appreciating the pure beauty of it.” She scooted him over and squeezed in, taking a seat on his left side. 

She tilted her head back and embraced every piece of the scenery as the cool autumn air kissed her rosy and flushed cheeks.

“Everyone says the sunset is their favorite part of the day, but I say the sunrise is the best,” She said to him, with a grin. 

Her eyes gazed out at the rising sun to the left of them. She looked at it as if it were a rare beauty hidden in the sky, and she was the first to discover it. He had never seen someone look at anything, or anyone, the way she looked at that sunrise. And yet, the feeling he got watching her stare at the rising sun seemed so familiar and safe. 

“I never really thought there was much of a difference,” He shrugged.

She turned to him, with shock and horror in her eyes, as if he had just told her the Earth was flat. “Not much of a difference?” She had now turned all of her attention on him.

“Yeah,” he said, reluctantly, nervous that any word he muttered next could get him kicked off the bench or pushed into the lake. 

“I mean,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “Obviously, one happens on the east and the other on the west, but other than that, they’re both colorful and signify the day ending or starting. It’s all basically the same thing. They just happen on different sides of this lake.” 

She looked at him with wonder and confusion in her eyes, holding her gaze until finally, she turned back to the sun rising over the water.

“What a simple way to view life,” She eventually muttered. 

“Excuse me?” What are you talking about?” 

She shook her head and shrugged, saying, “I think looking at life so simply like that seems a little sad.”

“Maybe some things in life are, in fact, that simple,” He replied. “Maybe we just make life more complicated by doing things like trying to compare two incredibly similar moments in nature. The sunrise marks the start of the day, the sunset marks the end. That’s it. Let’s not worry about it and just enjoy what we have and what’s right in front of us.” 

“Okay,” she responded calmly, turning back to the sunrise. The confusion on her face never seemed to settle as she watched it, until finally, she looked back at him again. Her face brightened as if she had finally solved a riddle. 

“A fresh start.”

“What?” He replied, confused, and slightly annoyed. 

“A sunrise is different than a sunset because it’s a way to restart. It’s a whole new day, filled with new possibilities and opportunities. Sunsets are a way of wrapping up who you were and what you did. When the sun rises the next morning, you have a brand new beginning. You’re not defined by who you were when the sun set. You get to refresh your life, in a way. The past is in the past.” 

She sat back, satisfied with her new revelation, and let out a long, relieved exhale. “A fresh start.” 

He had so many questions. What was she running away from? Why did she feel she needed to start over? He couldn’t fight the feeling that her statements might be exactly what he needed to hear. How did she do that? 

He brushed off her words and sighed. “Well Lucy, you can’t start over. You don’t get a refresh. That’s not how this works. You’re sick. You were sick when you were diagnosed a year ago, and you’re sick now. You’re… really sick now. And we’ve done all we can to fix it. It’s as simple as that.” 

Lucy didn’t respond. Instead, she calmly kept her gaze out at the sunrise, her head turned away from him, until finally, she looked down at her hands resting on her lap. She slowly and calmly responded, “I didn’t mean a fresh start for me.” 

He closed his eyes as his mind jumped around, not believing what he was hearing. 

“I don’t want a fresh start. I liked my life before the sunrise, or whatever.” 

“I know. I did too. But if you don’t let the sun set, it’ll never rise again.”

“Dammit Lucy, enough with the metaphors.”

“Fine.” She quickly turned to him with teary eyes. “I’m afraid that when I’m.. y’know..” Lucy’s voice cracked, and the silence floated between the two of them until she recomposed herself. “I’m afraid you’ll never move on. The days will go by, but you won’t really be living in them.”

Lucy took his hands in hers. “If you don’t let the sun set on your past, it can’t rise and start your new future. Promise me, you’ll let it set and will allow yourself to finally move on... whenever you’re ready.” 

He put his arms around her, gathering up every ounce of strength he had in him to keep the tears from falling. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. You’ve gotten treatment. We’ve still got a chance.” 

She curled up in his arms, giving him a tired, but knowing grin, as she gently shushed him. “It’s okay. The sun has almost finished rising. Let’s just take it all in.” 

He closed his eyes, with her in his arms, and let the sun, lake, and the morning breeze fall over him. 

As his eyes open, he looks around at the blooming flowers and embraces the fresh, evening spring air. The bright green grass surrounding him starts to fade as the sky grows darker. He sits on the Lucy Richardson Memorial Bench, looking out at the ripples on the lake. His fingers graze over the smooth, wooden lid of the box resting on his lap. 

His voice cracks as he finally builds up the courage to speak. “I know this wasn’t necessarily your favorite time of day, Lucy,” He says, forcing a grin. “But it is your favorite place.”

His hands tremble as he reaches to open the box, but stops to brace himself. 

“As you neared the end, you told me you wanted me to do this, but you didn’t tell me where. This seemed like the perfect spot to me. And the perfect time.” 

He looks out at the sinking sun, knowing that it’s now or never. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to do this, but you told me to wait until I was ready.” Taking a deep breath, he whispers, “I think I’m finally ready. It’s time to let the sun set and to embrace the sunrise. I need to move on and start living again. For you.” 

He takes a deep breath as he opens the lid and tilts the box. The box’s contents drift and fly with the wind, the spring breeze carrying her away as the sun finally sinks behind the trees to the right of him, until it’s no longer visible. 

He sits back down on the bench, repeating to himself once again, this time with more confidence, “I’m ready.” Gazing out at the water one last time, he stares at the moon’s reflection over the lake, surprisingly feeling calm and at peace. 

He closes his eyes, smiles, and tilts his head back, taking it all in.