Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CABIN (09/08/22)
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TITLE: Forever Home | Previous Challenge Entry
By Vicki J. Cypcar
09/15/22 -
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It was dusk when we would finally arrive to that rustic cabin surrounded by redwoods. Moths kissed the porch light, as we climbed out of our car to breathe in the fresh Sierra air.
Dinner was always waiting. My grandmother was a fabulous cook. My favorite was her savory pot roast, followed by Rhubarb pie for dessert.
Some mornings we would follow grandpa on his daily hike. I think it was his way of keeping us busy so grandma could write. She was a successful author, and mountain life seemed to inspire her.
Grandpa also had a terminal case of “Gold Fever.” Even into his 70’s he and my father would leave wearing their yellow hard hats with headlamps. They would hike through the forest, before repelling down into the mineshaft. There they would pick and chip away at the earth for hours. Grandpa’s tool shed was filled with repurposed aspirin jars filled with twinkling gold dust.
Grandpa was also an avid fisherman. One morning we watched him reel in a trout. The fish flipped and flopped gasping for air. I watched in horror as Grandpa pulled a small hammer out from the inside of his fishing vest.One swift whack to the head and the fish was dead. Its shiny beady eyes were now lifeless. That night I did not eat fish for dinner. I only picked at fried potatoes and coleslaw.
Sometimes grandpa would drive my middle sister and I to town for sweet treats at the general store. My oldest sister was an aloof teen - more interested in fashion magazines. The curvy country roads coupled with the geriatric driving turned us Casper white. We begged grandpa to pull over, so we could walk home. The Buick coasted to a stop like a barge. Before it was even out of sight - we were hurling onto a carpet of pine needles. This happened more than once, before we learned motion sickness was a thing.
After dinners we would run outside and push one another on the wooden swing. Deer would trounce through the woods like gazelles.
All of that - was home to me.
***
Sadly, grandma and grandpa both passed into eternity after lengthy illnesses. Diseases that indebted them to an onslaught of medical bills. Thus, they died penniless - in the heart of gold country.
The cabin and acreage was sold by my aunt, to strangers looking to unplug from city life.
I remember the last time I was there. The cabin was emptied out. Cobwebs laced the dirty windows. The towering sunflowers were downcast. But the saddest vision of all was the maple tree grandma had planted - as a legacy of her life.
Grandma had promised us, that when the leaves would twitch, it would be her waving hello forevermore.
Sadly, to the new residents it was merely an impediment, so they cut it down to make space for their fleet of 4-wheelers.
Truth is they were after the goldmine - not the simplicity and solace of country living.
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Nobody knows for sure what Heaven looks like, but I think I have a pretty good idea.I imagine there will be a solitary maple tree
shimmering in the heavenly light. Its leaves will be fluttering as if waving hello.
It is only then that I will finally be...forever home.
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