The Oak Tree

Alison blew a kiss to the oak tree. This would be the last time she ever saw it, and she wanted take a minute to acknowledge everything it had meant to her. It seemed silly, to get so emotional over a tree. Sean and Rosalie waited impatiently at her side. They were too young to understand, but maybe one day she'd tell them.

“Grandma and grandpa used to take me to this park on picnics when I was young. We always sat under this tree,” she'd say. “Your father first kissed me here, under this tree. He proposed to me here as well. That was before the war. Before the Depression. We were so young and we felt as though our love would triumph over every problem that we faced. You know, he really loved you both very much.” The thought of telling her children this, the thought of them growing to be the wise and beautiful children she'd know they be, the thought that their father would never be there to see it made Alison start to cry. She'd been holding back ever since she'd gotten the letter. She wanted to be strong for her children. But now, she couldn't help herself.

Rosalie slipped her hand into her mother's. “Do you miss daddy? I miss him too, mommy.”

This made Alison cry even more. She knelt down and hugged her daughter. For a seven year old, she was so mature, so wise. Looking over at her son, she saw that he too was trying not to cry. She knew how much Sean adored him, aspired to be like him, even enlist in the army when he was old enough. But he was twelve and his mind and maturity were starting to develop. He probably thought it was embarrass to be seen crying in front of his mother and younger sister. Still, Alison pulled him close, and surprisingly, he didn't resist.

It was hard to think that their father had been home less than six months ago, for Christmas time. It seemed so long ago, yet so fresh in her memory. She'd surprised her children with his visit on Christmas morning, made cinnamon rolls as she always did. Those few days were so happy. It was as if nothing had changed. It was as if the world was not at war.

Now the war was over and her husband, the father of two beautiful children, was dead. Nothing was going to be the same. This town was too full of memories, and that was why Alison had decided to move. There was a cheap apartment she had found in downtown Chicago. There they could start a new life. There, the fact that she was a widow wouldn't constantly be gossiped about.

It was time. Alison stood up, gently letting her children out of her arms. “Let's get started.” They turned around and faced the turquoise car, waiting patiently to be parked.

The war was over. A new era dawned. Maybe there was hope yet. As Alison got into the driver's seat, she took one last look at the tree. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”