B in the Air

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. Yet, the we was a habit of speech that needed breaking because there was no we. It was only me. After raising children for decades, the we had shifted to a silent corridor of possibilities. The bottles were all passed down to the next generation and the skinned knees were long healed.

This weekend marked a special day for this worn warrior of time. And I couldn't imagine a better way to spend it than in a cabin far from the hub-bub of reality. I knew that inside I would find the fully stocked kitchen with all of the conveniences that I had requested. The expense was a bit expensive by some calculations but I thought that it was worth every bit of the scheduled luxury.

I knew that the hosts would have selected the store's best salad fixings for tomorrow's leisure while leaving the crockpot on with today's surprise soup. Shelly's soups and fresh breads were medicine for the soul all on their own. Today, I had requested the Gulaschsuppe. There was something comforting about the hardy German fair that bragged the slow cooked steak and thick broth.

My mouth was anxious to reach the cabin knowing the amazing smell would reach the car almost before the engine would shut off. It was like magic when the sun hit the snow along the way perfectly showcasing the brilliance of the diamond-like reflections that made one wonder if the snow fairies were eating my soup even now. I could hardly wait to put on my slippers, my pajamas and curl up in front of the fireplace.

The fireplace had been carefully pieced together with specimen amethyst geodes found around the world, but many had come from Antreville SC in the United States. When one first comes into the cabin, one will be in awe at the sheer beauty of the purple shimmer greeting the eyes, especially for those who have never been there before.

The fireplace itself was set on a 17" white marble base that covered the entire back wall with small and large lilac to deep purple crystalline geodes carefully place to fit with great precision. Keeping them dust-free might be the bigger mystery and treat than anything else Amethyst Cabin might hold, but one most people never pondered.

Truly, I only pondered it because I had picked up every one of those geodes at least a dozen times. The cabin had been in my family for over 140 years. But when my father had died suddenly that legacy had to become a closed book passed on to the current hosts of the Airbnb, Shelly and Michael. My mother had been left alone to struggle financially and it didn't take long for either of them to decide it had to be sold.

The once fairly prominent family was devestated by the medical bills that rose higher than the mountain that the cabin lay nestled in. Because of the company her father had worked for over 30 years, they as a family had the privilege to spend at least one week a year in a different country as a perk of the generous package. But when they had discovered their first geodes in Brazil at a time when they were remodeling the cabin, they found a new tradition that would amaze all who would walk into the cabin.

Part of the sale agreement insured that my mother and myself as well as my immediate family could come to the cabin free of charge once a month perpetually. Hence, the expense of the quasi-catered meals was quite economical for me and for them it gave them the offsetting income that they too needed. This weekend it was even more appreciated as my mother had died only a couple of weeks ago following my father's path with the request to spread the ashes here before the sun would hit the fireplace at about 8 AM.

My mother wanted the sun to be shining on the day of the scattering so that I could witness the 8 AM sparkling if only to remind me that life was fleeting: 'We' should enjoy every sparkle whether scheduled or unscheduled. Yet, she thought 'we' should always schedule in the most beauty possible for our lives because it would sprint away leaving us uncovered and barren. The memories would act as a cushion for the harsh reality of the silence.

Just like the folklore fairies who spread the diamond dust after every fresh snowfall, the fun would eventually melt leaving only the mud of life for us to clean up before we could move into the next chapter. This was a poignant weekend indeed. Not only did it close the chapter on my parents, but it would help develop the new chapter of her own as her own children were far scattered as well. Normally, her husband would have joined her, but not this time. This time it was the private reflection time that would clear the past, building a foundation for the future.