The Last Breaths of an Elder
My great grandad laid in his bed. Most of the family from my dad’s side was either gathered around him or waiting outside the door. Everyone was listening to what he had to say. Everyone wanted to hear his stories for the last time. He spoke softly, telling his favorite story out of all of them. That was the story of the times when clean air wasn’t everywhere. It was one I’d heard many times before from when I was young and we’d used to trade stories from our lives.
I doubted mine were ever very interesting given I was just a kid, but he listened to them regardless and told me his. Now it was my turn to listen as he laid in bed and waited to die. I held back small tears as did many. Nobody wanted the old man to go, and nobody wanted to say goodbye.
“It was a rare sort of day, that day. It was the second or perhaps third time in my time on Mars where the air parameters were lined up in a way that allowed for our kind to breathe without filters, masks, and conditioners.”
It was a story he had told almost all of the family, and most of those gathered around him.
“Days like that were becoming more and more common in those times, but they were still rarities then. They were things to be cherished. Work stopped for them. People took to the outside from their homes and works. It was a miracle we all enjoyed in those times and something I miss experiencing now. Still, I am glad to be around to tell the story of what it was like.” he said with a light laugh.
“So, as I recall it, that day started for me with my hammering on a building going up on the outskirts of my town. The timber I knew had a scent to it, but through the mask I could smell almost nothing. On my skin I could feel the wind, the wooden handle in my hand, and the sweat on my brow. In my mouth I could taste the sour slivers of the morning’s breakfast and the spit building before I swallowed again. With my eyes I could see every movement and with my ears I could hear everything. It was only with my nose that I could not smell most of what was around me. Only the sterile air was there to fill my nostrils.”
“Those things made the end of the days all the more inviting. It made the sound of sirens in the air all the more intoxicating. They blared suddenly without warning and we all knew what it meant before the broadcasts even came. There were different sounds the horns could make and we all knew the ones that meant danger just as well as we knew the single one that meant a miracle had occurred.”
“One by one and then another, tools dropped from the hands of various workers around me as well as myself. My grip loosened in shock and my hammer clattered in the red dirt and kicked up a small splash of dust, then the announcement came over the speakers that littered the landscape of the town. It wasn’t one that had yet been pre recorded. It was a live broadcast from someone in the radio tower all the way at the other end of town.”
“The man behind the speakers said ‘It’s one of those special days, folks. The air quality parameters are all in order and everythings at levels considered to be safe. The dust is settled and the concentrations are fine and dandy. It’s indeed one of those special days. It's one of those days where the masks can come off. Free yourselves, my friends. Take a smell of that sweet pine forest wafting in the air.’”
“A moment or two stood between the announcement ending and the first of us ripping off our masks. It happened suddenly, the first person tearing the contraption off of their face. Many more people followed the example of the first until we were all standing there with clear faces and shocked eyes. There wasn’t a single one of us that didn’t follow that radio man’s commands.”
He took a breath and then a drink of water before he started speaking again. He asked to have his pillows adjusted as well. Grandad did that for him, and then he went back to telling the story.
“The scents all around me flowed through me as I breathed the fresh Martian air in and then out for the first time ever. It wasn’t filtered through a mask or a conditioning unit. It was pure and dirty at the same time. Polluted with hints of rust and speckles of dirt, but purified by sweet flowers, wet grass, and growing conifers.”
“I remember that I closed my eyes and stood there in the moment, thirsting for every inhale after every exhale until I had had my fill. I clipped my mask at my side and looked around to my comrades to see what they were doing. Wonder had taken over all of us. A pure kind of joy like what you’d see in an innocent youngin.”
My great grandad pointed to my younger sister. She was only at the age of three. He saw the same wonder as in her as he told the story as he must have had when he was living it.
“It was like that kind of wonder.” he chuckled. Then he went back to telling the story again.
“As the wonder ended in all of us, some of us laughed and cheered while others started picking up their tools. I grabbed my hammer from the ground and took one last breath before slamming it into the wood with vigor and frenzy. We found ourselves working faster without the restrictions of our gear. We could truly experience the lesser gravity and the barely born world around us.”
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“We worked twice or three times as hard that day. We told jokes to each other without the muffling of the masks. Happiness abounded and the enjoyment of it all between us was endless.”
“We savored it all for as long as we could until eventually the alarms sounded again and it was time to go back under the cover of the masks. A few tears were shed for the end. We all hoped and some prayed that such a day as that one would soon come again. We all hoped for those rare days to become more common, and as they did, we grew used to them, but we still remembered the times when they were not common at all. The days, weeks, and months between minutes, hours, or days where we could breath free. We remembered them all and we counted the time.
“As we noticed the time between miracles growing smaller, we knew our miracles would become nothing more than commonality, but still, we smiled for the future we knew then was ahead. We cheered and patted ourselves on the back and we dreamed of the day where the masks would be a thing of the past. We dreamed of today, and the future we were building.”
He looked to all of us as he finished telling the short story of his past. He smiled an open smile, missing many of his teeth. That was to be expected at his age, one hundred and thirty three.
“Standing here now in that future, I’m glad I helped to build it. Even if it doesn’t feel as special now to take in oxygen without a mask and a filter, I still find myself being grateful for it all. I’m grateful for the world that’s come together around me and for those who’ve come after me.”
“It’s all of yours’ world now. It has it’s own new miracles for you to find and cherish. I’m old now, and I tell stories for those who’ll listen and for those who won’t. I tell the stories of the old times when the trees were still young and the waters muddy. I’ll tell my stories for as long as I breathe, and I enjoy each and every moment when you all are listening. I’m old now though. I don’t have too much longer for this world. It’s your turn now to find your own stories. Remember mine and write your own, my family.”
He took a breath and looked out the window to the fields and then back at us again.
“I love you all, but I think it’s time for an old man to get some rest now. Go out and explore the world built for you all. Enjoy it. It’s all yours’ now.” he said before closing his eyes.
The machine that was connected to him kept going as it was supposed to, but I supposed we all knew that it would blink out soon after we left. Slowly a few of the family made their ways out of his room. Some like my dad and grandad took their hats off and folded them across their chests. My dad put his hand on my back and patted me. Then he walked out and sister followed him. Grandad did too. Everyone left, and then I finally followed. I looked back before I left. I saw him look back at the field where everyone was gathered. Kids were playing with their parents. My cousins were kicking a ball around.
“What adventures you all will have. You all better remember them for me. I’ll have plenty to share once we’re all together again. I expect a fair trade.”
I poked my eyes back to the ground and turned to leave only to hear his voice again.
“Could you tell them all that, my child?” he asked me.
I turned around again to see his eyes staring at me. I hesitated for a small while until I was able to speak again.
“I uhm, yes I can tell them that for you.”
“Good, good. Thank you, son.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Hmm. You’re a good child of mine, well, even if you’re born of my son’s son. Heh. You’re a well mannered young man. You’ve grown well since you were young. Tell me, did you enjoy the story. I know you’ve heard it before, but I always wondered. ”
“I did, and, thank you, sir.”
“Sir, oh you’re making me feel way too old. I am glad you enjoyed my old stories though. Why’d you stay behind, anyhow? Did you wish to hear more?” he asked.
I replied. “No. It just seemed like you weren’t entirely ready to be alone yet. It also seemed like you had a little more you wanted to say.”
“Nobody’s ever ready to be alone. Just as there’ll always be something more to be done. It’s as good a time as any though. I’m nearing my end. I’d rather everybody enjoy the day a little bit before they have to deal with my body. That includes you.”
“So you want me to go?”
“Yeah. It’d be better if you don’t see a body form from a man.”
“I’ll leave them, I guess. You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Oh, but before you go, catch.”
“Wha…” I tried to say. I didn’t get the chance to before I saw the old man do something that almost seemed impossible. He sat up and took the hat off of his head before tossed it like a disc to my arms.
“Ahh, that hurt quite a bit. That’s yours now too. Now go have some fun with the rest of them. Leave an old man to his rest.”
“I… I will. Thank you, great grandad.” I said to him, holding the hat in my hands.
“Adios. Until the next time and place, son.”
I put the hat on and nodded to him before leaving. As I was a few paces away, I could hear the faint beeping of the machine telling his heartbeat. It had gone to a long drawn sound and I knew he was leaving. I stopped for a few seconds and thought. I remembered what everyone else did and what people did in the old movies I used to watch with him. I tilted the hat forward as he left the world. I figured that was the right thing to do.
“Goodbye, great g.” I whispered, then I went along to do as he had told me to do. I ran over to join my cousins in playing a game of soccer. I knew adventures awaited me, and I had to find a story to share with him one day, wherever he was. I knew he was somewhere, and we’d trade stories again eventually. One day far away. Eventually.