Ashley Marjean

Voyage to the Cabin

The old log cabin looks like a big brown boulder in the middle of nowhere, sticking out of the sea of blinding white snow and tucked away in all of these tall, white birch trees. It’s been 2 years since I’ve made the long, bumpy 41 mile drive into this mountain. I’ve been so absorbed in my own life, working to get the partner promotion at the local law firm, that I’ve missed our annual and spur of the moment “voyages” to the cabin. I’ve constantly been searching for every possible angle to win cases for the lives of the clients that I defend, that I haven’t even given it a thought as to what fighting for my own life would entail, let alone trying to actually live it. At least that was the case until 3 weeks ago when I lost her. She was so funny and the wisest person I knew and she wasn’t just kind, she was empathetic and not only calm but, peaceful. You couldn’t help but, just feel better in her presence. It was like the rest of the world and worries just faded away like an early morning fog does when the sun peaks above these very mountains. She had an answer for everything, even to the most impossible questions and she didn’t just listen, she saw you. It was as if she could see everything you’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. There were no secrets with her, she knew everything, even the dark things you didn’t dare speak aloud for fear that they’d start existing outside of your body, as if it were contagious. Thirty five years with her wasn’t nearly enough time. I should’ve taken time off, asked more questions, been more present. My grandmother was everything to me. She was healthy until, one morning she was putting in the earrings I bought her for her birthday this June, and all of a sudden she felt a pinch in her neck. She thought maybe she had slept wrong until the pain migrated through her shoulder and the heart aneurism, we had no idea about, took her life before I could make it to the hospital.