The Heart of a Family

The wind blows incessantly, but I don’t let it bother me anymore. It used to tear at my soul and fill me with anger. I couldn’t handle not being in control, of being at its mercy. That was all before the Darkness came.

IT came without warning like a thief in the night. For an infinitesimal moment it seemed as if time had stopped. The change could be felt, but in a indescribable way, there were no words. The Darkness was followed quickly by the Sickness. It hit people hard and there was no cure to be found, no help to be given.

No one knows what happened. If the event was man made or otherworldly. All we know for certain is that when the Darkness lifted and the Sickness ended, the world as we knew it was over. Untold numbers died and we were transported back to a time beyond memory. Where every day is a fight for survival.

My family and I are lucky though. The four of us were visiting my grandparents at their cabin in the woods when it happened. We’re miles from the nearest town and while we don’t get visitors, we are always on guard. The days are spent working in the garden, chopping wood, and doing everything possible to put up supplies for the coming winter. To travel from the homestead is to risk everything. It’s an undertaking that will only happen out of necessity or absolute desperation.

I’m working in the garden today and I find myself staring off into the distance. Beyond the far edge of the garden is a meadow. I‘m drawn to the five mounds that lie just inside that open grassy glade. I wonder about them, but am afraid, so I do not venture out. There is safety within the borders of our land. When I have to go out beyond the boundary I feel exposed and at risk. I can’t shake the unease that trickles down my spine whenever I must breach the invisible line the separates safely and security from the unknown. Deep inside I feel myself withdrawing and each day it‘s more and more difficult to leave the sanctuary of the cabin. But, I know I must, as the work is never ending.

The day is drawing to a close and I am thankful. My yearning to slip inside and bolt the door for another night has overwhelmed me today. As dusk settles, final chores are completed and a last perimeter check is done. All appears as it should and I gladly close out the world, finally feeling at ease for the first time since the sun rose this morning.

While dinner simmers over the fire I wander through the cabin and talk to my dad and grandpa. Discussing all that needs to be done before winter. Asking advice and seeking support. There is still so much to do and as the days grow shorter, the list grows longer. I fear the coming months, the pressure is mounting. I remind myself that anything is possible with the love of my family.

The table is set for six and I bend over the fire to stir the stew, comforted by the smell and grateful for the nourishment. The heart shaped locket around my neck dips towards the pot. I quickly grasp it and tuck it into my shirt with a shake of my head. Each side holds a picture of my family. I swing the cast iron pot away from the fire to let it cool a bit and sit down on the hearth. I touch the locket and then slowly open it. I gaze with love at the pictures inside, happy to have my family close to me.

I turn to the table with a bowl of stew and my eyes are drawn to the window. In the distance the final rays of the sun gently caress the mounds in the meadow. I glance at the empty table and hold the locket tight. Although I promised myself there would be no more tears I feel one trail slowly down my face. I look at the empty seats around the table and sigh. I don’t know why I’m the only who survived and I don’t know why I can’t bring myself to venture to the graves. Maybe some day I’ll be able to...maybe some day. As I take my first bite, I do what I always do, talk to my family about what needs to be done the next day. Winter will be here soon and we must be prepared.