THE LAST GIFT

Each day now, he sat in the upholstered chair staring ahead at the blank wall. In the hallway his two children conversed in hushed tones.

“The doctor said it will only be a few more days.”

“It’s sad. He worked so hard his entire life. But it was always for Mom and us. Christmas presents, bicycles, our college tuition, my first car --”

“I know what you mean. And now he spends his final days in that chair just staring ahead. He can’t even talk to us.”

“What about his desires - his dreams? They’re all beyond him now.”

“Remember? He always wanted a cottage on the lake. Used to read the classifieds for lake property every Sunday morning - and dream.”

“He even had a cottage fund built up until he spent it on Mom’s operation.”

“Wish there was something we could do.”

*****

The old man sat in the upholstered chair staring ahead at the blank wall.

“It’s a great idea, but do you think he’ll realize?”

His son unwrapped a huge picture and hung it on the wall if front of the old man. It was of a green lawn leading down to a blue lake as seen through a cabin window. Birches and pines dotted the yard and rimmed the lake, and a red canoe was paddled by a robust man with a swarthy tan.

The old man could see the cool, deep waters of the lake. He could see boats with billowing white sails leaving a wake on the placid waters. He saw a fisherman in a rowboat off the point.

“See he’s caught a fish. A near trophy northern. - I see the kids water skiing beneath a blue sky. - Now a gentle rain sweeps across the lake. - Look, a sunset of pink and blue. - There’s my brother, John and his girls in swim suits at the Bar-B-Q grill. Hear them laughing and stuffing themselves with hot dogs and toasted marshmallows.

“I see eagles soaring overhead. Loons calling in the moon light. There -- a raging storm with battering winds and torrents of rain swirl across the water. The birches whip and bend under the pressure.

“I can see Martha relaxed on the lounge at the waters edge reading a novel.”

*****

The old man sat in the upholstered chair staring straight ahead, but now there was a wonderment in his eyes.

“Look, Bill, I brought some birch branches with colored leaves. Help me hang them around the picture.”

The old man could see yellow leaves reflecting in the blue lake. All the shore seemed coated in browns and reds and yellows.

“I hear the whine of a chain saw and the thud of axes. Guess someone is laying in their winter supply of fire wood. The kids have built a bonfire. This evening the glowing embers will reflect in the water.

“See, the dog is chasing blowing leaves and sniffing out animal paths in the grass. Raccoon and sometimes even bear raid our garbage cans.

“A boat is inching silently by powered by a trolling motor as fishermen work the shallows for bass. There is a constant parade of chickadees, woodpeckers, and nuthatches at the bird feeder.”

*****

“Bill, I feel like a criminal. This seems close to parent abuse.”

“Elly, we agreed. Now come on and help.”

Brother and sister set the thermostat down to 55 degrees. They put a heavy mackinaw on the old man, then gloves and a hat with ear flaps tied down.

He sat in the upholstered chair and stared straight ahead at the picture and the now bare birch branches. It was cold in the room.

The old man could see drifts of snow down by the boat house. He could see the kids ice skating on the little cleared spot.

“I see ice boats cutting across the lake at breakneck speed. There, see how the winter moon shines down on the ice. That light across the lake is a campfire. Probably deer hunters.

“Snowmobilers are round by the point. - I’ll go ice fishing tomorrow in that shack beyond the boathouse.. Saw a pine martin last night hunting in the moon light.

“Smell that, hot chocolate and cookies. Tomorrow for breakfast Martha will serve steak and blueberry pie. That’s what we had on our honeymoon 53 years ago.

“Just listen to the snow crunch beneath my boots. That biting wind cuts right through, and yet I’m still warm. I could stay here forever.”

*****

“I got here as fast as I could.”

“He died last night, Elly.”

“Oh Bill, what could we have done.”

“I don’t know. But we tried, Elly. We tried.”

Story ID:	1189
Written by:	Dick Dunlap (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Fiction
Location:	Land O'Lakes Wisconsin USA
Year:	2006
Person:	the old man