The Last Walk

The tears slowly ran down his cheeks as he remembered when he would get a phone call and he’d hear Happy Birthday being sung by a relative. But now those years had passed and there were no rings. He had slowly been forgotten. One year there had been the sound of that song from at least a dozen relatives and slowly it had dwindled to four or five. Then his mother had died and only his sisters would call and then even those had stopped. They sent a card with bet wishes and that soothed him a bit but it was their voices and that song that had brought joy. Now he sat in his small senior housing unit and he cried wondering why. And he knew it had been his fault. He had stopped sending cards and celebrating birthdays of his nephews and nieces but he still would call his one remaining sister. Of course she was older than he and as forgetful if not more. So he wasn’t angry he was just sad. He heaved a sigh as he cried and could not figure a way out of his doldrums. He thought that maybe he should just go for a walk and he did. He began walking and walking and walking. The hours passed and the night was coming on when he realized he was in the countryside and he must have walked at least twenty miles from his home. He stopped to rest and wondered whether he should turn back but he was too tired so he walked on a little more to try and find a place that would shelter him for the night. He decided never to return. He would walk on to meet his maker.
The next morning there was a bit of commotion on the outskirts of a small hamlet of about fifty people. A sheriff’s car and a few farmers from around the area were observing a man who had curled up under an olive tree and holding an olive branch to the sky. He had passed on that night and had made his peace with the heavens.

April 27th, 2008