Hallooween yearly submission by © Kevin P. Tremblay: Joan sat on the window-seat looking out at the wind in the trees rustling the fall-colored leaves. The wind appeared as streams in the sky, as a fluid and translucent. She reflected on her life watching these currents of air rush by. As sand trickles through the center of an hourglass, she pondered the days of her life. It was all good.
There had been many rough times. When Robert, her husband, had been unfaithful she was devastated. That passed, and he became tamer, and house broken, like an old tomcat. He was an excellent provider and was kind; she regained her love for him which became unwavering.
The children were grown and she needn't worry for them, they were doing fine. The garden was mostly in, and preserves enough put up for winter. All the storm-windows where down, and just now Robert was outside finishing putting banking on the house. It was a wonderful Sabbath morning. Joan was glad for it all.
She stared at the trees and sky, feeling satisfied. There had been lots of struggles. When Robert was out of work and the children young, it was a hard time. Every meal was a blessing, and they got through it. That horrible car accident and hospital bills were hard to accept. Everyone survived and got better. The bills got paid in a few years after negotiating with the hospital for a reasonable sum.
Joan had grown patient with life and tolerate of others and their transgressions. When she realized why the people she loved lied, that often it was merely weakness on their parts, and a form of protection, she opened her heart to their pain, and forgave them. Each act of hatred upon reflection was only an expression of love inverted, and used to cover up fear. Joan was satisfied with it all.
She struggled with belief in God too; as most thinking people do. How could a caring and loving God allow so much pain? The wind produced a melodious whistling sound, and the glorious colorful leaves flickered red, orange and gold. It became easy to accept all these things knowing that each moment of pain was as false as lies told to manipulate reality; and actually just an illusion of self.
Joan desired nothing. The wind was enough. The trees and sky beckoned her spirit to join in the dance of the Universe. The All Seeing and All Knowing energy; the flow of universal good seemed palpable. All the pain, the love and angst of the neighbors, of Robert a few yards away but unseen around the corner of the house was felt. She did love him for every fault he had.
Joan was feeling light-headed without normal grounding. She felt prickly good, and the semblance of the physical forms around her lost their rigid outlines. Joan could smell the bark on the trees and the frogs in the ground, the crisp apples, and leaf mould. Her satisfaction was complete. Her love no long needed qualification. Joan felt the wind. It was not separate from her. The breeze was her. Her spirit lifted out of the aging body and soared into the sky with the wind. When Robert came into the house and found her sitting by the window lifeless, he held her body and cried.
