Ashton Stine: "Forevergreen"

The scent of pine cones and evergreen air freshener fills the air, as I enter the dimly lit log cabin.
Nostalgia filled the air. The nostalgia of the holidays, of spending time with the ones you love. I smiled and greeted Marie. She looked thinner than ever, her skin lifeless and almost grey in tint. Her bright green eyes had lost their luminous sparkle, and in their place, a dull grey. The tree in the corner was covered with bright gold tinsel, ornamented in a cheery manner.
I hugged her and sat down in the brown leather chair in front of her, right next to the crackling fireplace. The heat from the fire didn’t seem to warm her.
“How are you?” was the only words I could manage. What can you say to heal it, to make it better? Beads of sweat collected around my brow, even though it was thirty degrees outside and snowing.
“I’m good!” She managed. A weak smile lifted the corners of her frail face. I remember when that smile could light up a whole room.
Memories of my life flash before my eyes. The beautiful ones. Before sickness invaded. Before chemotherapy treatments, hospital beds, IV’s, countless doctors visits, test results with no answers. 
He smiles at me, the fine lines around his mouth showing many years of smiling. No frown lines. 
I took a deep breath. It was already time to start discussing the plans we wanted to put in motion. 
We made idle chat. Work and the weather. How church life was going for him. How many new people got saved. How the church was growing. On and on. My chest got tight, thinking of all the girls with so much ahead of them. I was once that girl, bright eyed and bushy tailed, headed towards her future. But that dream, that fantasy, quickly turned into a nightmare. I watched the dreams slip through my fingers like finely grained quicksand. 
Cheery christmas songs softly play on the speaker in the corner. The wooden logs for walls seemed to add to the cozy, warm feeling in the room. But it is still too cold in here. The evergreen boughs lining the top of the fireplace have twinkly lights wrapped around them, brightening Paul’s face. 
“It’s time to start discussing the arrangements. It’s okay to be upset, it’s okay to cry, it’s okay if you just aren’t ready. I will sit here as long as you need.” He reassures me, squeezing my hand gently. I pull out my delicate piece of notebook paper, which had everything scribbled on it. A reminder that I had tucked away for awhile now. It is time to face the music. 
She began with the mediocre parts. The parts that didn’t really grab my attention, the basics. She started out with the easier to swallow parts.  A lump still formed in my throat. I didn’t know how I would handle it when she left.
She started in on the songs she wanted to be played, the scriptures she wanted to be read.
This was all expected, and I gently jotted down what she requested and nodded. Tears couldn't help but roll down my cheeks.
She paused, her light brown hair covering her eyes.
After a moment’s pause, she lifted her eyes to meet mine again. But they seemed to sparkle in an enchanting way this time.
“But instead of my favorite flower, dahlias, which everyone is going to expect me to request, I want something different. I simply want evergreen boughs on my casket.”
I frowned, my eyes squinting in confusion. “That’s a request I’ve never heard before!” I exclaimed, trying to lighten to mood. A toothy smile peered back at me this time.
I returned to seriousness, asking inquisitively,”But why evergreens? Out of all the beautiful flowers out there… your aunt is a florist. She told me you worked with her for years in her shop. You must know every flower and plant known to man?’
I tilt my head at Paul. He still had a bewildered expression. I smile, and laugh. 

And then I tell him, I tell him why. I want it to serve as a reminder to everyone, a truth I feel so strongly about. 
When I am done, tears streaming down his face. We hug, in a tight embrace. I am so glad I shared it with him, and it  touches him as much as it touched me. 
Walking out of the quaint home, warm and cozy, into the barren frigid winter made tears swell in my eyes even more. Partly from the cold, partly from the experience I just had with Marie. One I would certainly never forget, and I hoped all those that knew her would never forget, either.
One night my wife nudged me awake.
She stood up, in the pale moon lighting streaming from the bedroom window, her eyes reddened from tears. She brushed a few stray tears leaking out of her cheeks away. Her nightgown had light splotches of tears. The sense of dread already made my stomach drop past my feet.
“Marie……”


At the funeral, guests flooded in to remember a dear life. A life ripped from our grasp, too soon. I witnessed many friends and family of Marie’s staring at the simple, lush evergreen boughs on the casket.
Comments in passing by would consist of, “Why those? Out of all the flowers in the world?” A smile tugged at my lips each time I heard the phrase.
When I stood in front of all the guests to read the scriptures Marie had requested, I asked a simple question to the audience.
“Do evergreens falter, even when the snow and rain comes? Even when the frigid winter comes, the other trees wilter under the stress, but the Evergreen is true to the name. It remains Evergreen, staying strong in the bad.”
The audience stared at me, with blank expressions. I left it up to interpretation for them to figure out. A few knowing looks crossed the family’s face, tears streaming down their cheeks. Others looked around at others, huffing and frustrated from their obvious confusion.

Let us all be like the Evergreens.