February 2024 issue online-

32
SWEET OCTOBER
by Ruth Finch
The air was fresh as Beth walked briskly through
the gravel trails winding through the gardens. This
had always been one of Beth’s favourite places
since she moved to the city some 40 years ago. The
trees were at their peak colours - dressed in bright
yellows, iridescent reds and burnt orange. It was as
if God had flung a paintbrush at the trees and the
garden instantly became a kaleidoscope of colour.
The leaves twisted and frolicked in the crisp breeze.
October is such a wonderful month, Beth mused.
Beth thought of the many Octobers as far back as
she could remember. As a child of poor immigrants,
she never had more than two hand-me-down outfits
at a time. Beth’s mind kept wandering back to that
time as a young child and she remembered a
fantasy about being the only person left in the
world. What possibilities her young mind imagined
- she could pick any place to live and have all the
beautiful clothes and furniture she wanted. What’s
more - a full fridge with all the drinks and treats
imaginable! This would have been a huge contrast
to the humble trailer she and her family lived in. It
was a few years later that it occurred to Beth,
thinking her fantasy through a bit more, that there
would be no one to share all those experiences with,
or see her beautiful clothes. This is when she first
realized that life was not all about possessions but,
in fact, that possessions were actually the very least
of it.
As the cool October air brushed gently along
Beth’s cheeks, her mind wandered to another
October memory - this one over a decade ago. This
memory was of Thanksgiving Sunday - the weather
similar to today’s. Thinking about that time gave
Beth a strange feeling of happiness mixed with the
ache of sadness. The memory took place at the
house where Beth and her beloved husband Paul
had lived for 40 years and where their three
beautiful children were raised - 2 girls, Kersten and
Ava, and son Tyler. Beth and Paul met in high
school. Beth loved Paul more than life itself.
During this particular Thanksgiving Day the
children, all grown up now with children of their
own, bustled in the house with smiling faces, one
family and then the next. By this time, Beth and
Paul had seven grandchildren in all. The children
played happily - all the cousins together.
Beth’s Mom and Dad, in their late 80s now, were
first at the table when dinner was announced. There
was laughter, pure joy and love that emanated from
the table as they all gathered. That day had with it a
feeling of indescribable warmth and
pure joy. Beth had placed blank
cards at every spot with a pencil so
people could write what they were
thankful for. Inevitably, the first
response was family. It certainly wasn’t
clothes, houses or fancy furniture. Life had been
good to all of them, and this day in particular,
Beth’s heart was bursting with gratitude.
Reliving that great memory, Beth found herself
singing a line in a song, which couldn’t have fit
more perfectly. “Those were the days, my friend,
we thought they’d never end.”
They did end, as all life transitions in ways we
don’t always expect. . .Paul passed away that next
spring, suddenly, unexpectedly, and too soon.
Beth’s parents both passed a short while later. Over
the next few years, the children and their families
moved across the country to different cities. Now it
was only Beth left in the house.
Beth was almost at the gazebo by now, and the
bench was in full view. Paul’s name etched
indelibly on the plaque with the words “I am the
Light of the world…” referring to a Bible verse.
“You were the light of MY world,” Beth was
sitting on the bench now and found herself talking
out loud as she rubbed her fingers across the cold
marble of the plaque’s lettering. A seemingly
unusual giant tear dropped from Beth’s cheeks. As
if contradictory, a smile crossed her lips. She felt he
was there, remembering with her.
On the walk home, the afternoon sun disappeared
and the air became bitterly cold, a foreshadow of
winter to come. As the wind picked up and the
leaves danced around Beth - they were flying off
the trees fast and furious now, they landed in soft
piles of colour. Our lives are a dance, thought Beth.
Sometimes soaring high towards the sun, and
sometimes dropping to the cold and damp ground
below, inevitably ending in a glorious collage
reflecting the twists and turns of our journey. Each
moment must be savoured to its fullest, she thought,
as it is fleeting, and in the end, it is in relationships
that we find our greatest treasure.
Upon returning home, Beth packed for a trip the
next day to see her son and family. This holiday
was their turn to have a “Grandma Visit”. She
reminded herself to embrace every moment of these
sweet October days.
The Sentinel - February 2024 — Vol. 48, No. 6