It’s the same as it always was; green,
full of life, almost magical. It doesn’t seem like anything’s changed, except the
trees are a little bit taller, and the rope swing has disappeared. It seems untouched
by time, although many years have passed since I was here. The day she left was
the last day I came. This clearing in the woods behind her house used to be our
special place. Dragons, elves, knights in shining armor, and all manner of
magical creature lived here. Often, we would have to cross a great, rushing
river during our quests. Other times, we’d ride dragons and griffins around our
castles; sometimes for fun, and sometimes to fight off giants and evil
sorcerers. On most days you could find us here, lost in magical fantasies.
Those were the best days of my childhood; of my life. This clearing was the
only place where I felt at home, where I felt strong and important. All the memories of the fun we’d had come
rushing back to me. I sink to the ground and sit, feeling helpless, as I often did
when I was a child. Why did I come back here? There are so many memories, and
pain with every thought. That last day I vowed never to come back, so what am I
doing here? Images of her, long forgotten, pervade my mind. That’s why I came
back, for her. She had left me with a job to do, and I hadn’t finished it. I
didn’t know what it was, until now. I got up and made my way out of the
clearing. I followed the hidden path out of the woods, it was still as fresh in
my mind as it was the first day we had discovered it. Finally out of the woods,
I pass the “For Sale” sign in front of her house, walk to my car, and drive
home. I’ll be back soon. I owe it to her.
A few days later I come back. I’ve brought my children with
me. We make our way to the clearing, just like she and I used to do. I hadn’t
told them where we were going. I say, “This was our woods,” and they
understand; it’s their favorite bedtime story.
I watch their eyes light up as they start to see the stories come to
life, and I imagine too. I’m soon
snapped out of my reverie by her voice whispering in my head, “Do you
understand?” At last, I can answer yes.
It’s a new day; I’m back at the clearing in the woods.
I’ve brought some things with me: rope, a ladder, a saw, a round piece of wood
2ft in diameter, and other necessary items. I’m going to make a rope swing,
just like the one we had before. Hopefully other children will be able to have
as much fun with it as we had with ours. I start to work, using what little
knowledge I have of craftsmanship. It’s a while before I’m finished and can
step back to view my work. Seeing a swing up there again triggers memories of
flying and fantasy. It reminds me of all the great adventures we had had when
we were children. Now that I’m done, I head back out to my car, lingering in
front of the house for a short while before leaving; the “For Sale” sign is
still up. I wonder how many families have lived there since my family left, 20
years ago. I decide to pick up a flyer, and then I go home.
It’s been awhile since my last visit to the clearing. I’ve
made some big decisions in that time. I’m back today; this time I won’t say
goodbye. My children are with me again; they’ve discovered the rope swing that I
built. I watch them as they discover the joy that this clearing can bring. I
can finally see the entire picture; the reason she gave me this job. She knew;
she planned on this, even before she could have possibly known. I look up at
the sun shining through the trees; my children are laughing, their voices
ringing with the joy that only children possess. I whisper the words “thank you”
into the air, and imagine the wind carrying them up to heaven. I know she hears
me, I can feel it. I linger for a moment as my children race back to our new
house. My sister; my twin; the emptiness that seized me when she left, when she
died, is now gone. I’ve finished the job she left me with, and her legacy will
live on.
