A Cup and a Tear

Sitting alone in the nursing home, a tear rolls down Tom’s cheek, dripping off his stubbly jaw, landing in his cup of coffee, and instantly transforming the murky liquid into a mysterious image that begins to rise up, out of the cup…

The day had started the same as every other day had started since Tom had been placed in the nursing home. How long had it been, a year, two? Time didn’t have any measure after his wife had passed away. For that matter, time didn’t seem to have any measure for years. It had when they first met, the first ten years, but then things began to change.

This was Tom’s second marriage, the first one ending after twenty years in divorce. Maggie also had recently divorced, and the two hit it off right from their first meeting. It seemed like things just fell into place for them, and before long they were living together, and then married. They had a lot in common, sharing in just about everything. But, their favorite activity was camping.

Over the first ten years, they camped as often as possible, starting with just a few essentials, and building up their camping gear over the years. Every chance they got, they would pack up their gear and head off to some new campground for a new adventure. With every new site, they would look for some souvenir, something to cherish and remember these wonderful times. It was never anything big or extravagant, just a pretty rock, or maybe a small plant that was unique to the area, perhaps a wine bottle they shared around the fire; sometimes just the pictures they took by a sign or scenic area, but always they saved something.

That was where Tom’s coffee cup had come from, their last camping trip. Things had become more complicated after tom changed careers, and it seemed like he seldom had time for anything other than work. They only made it out camping a couple times during the first few years at this new job, and then it became even less as work demands and stress increased.

If Tom had switched to this career as a younger man, it may have worked differently, but he was already well into his fifties when he made the change, and all the work and stress took a deep toll on his health. Even so, he stuck with it, determined to last until he could retire, with a nice pension. Maggie stuck by his side, doing her best to help out and to take care of him. She watched as he aged faster than he should, and she also suffered from the stress of seeing Tom’s health decline.

It was towards the end when she insisted that he retire early, while he could still enjoy life. He was reluctant, but their love was strong, and he had very high respect to this woman who had stood fast by his side through everything life threw up at them. Besides, he knew she was right; he had found himself feeling regretful over the decisions he had made for work, instead of enjoying more of life over the years. Now, with poor health, it was time to throw in the towel and try and salvage a few years for him and Maggie.

It was in the spring of the year when it all came together, a nice little retirement party at work, and not too bad of a pension, even with leaving a few years early. At the party one of his coworkers, and one of Tom’s few close friends asked him what he was going to do with all his time. Maggie answered before Tom even had time to think about this question. “We’re going camping.”

They had all laughed at this, then Frank asked her, “And after you return from camping, what then?”

Maggie smiled at him, looked at Tom and replied, “Who said anything about returning.” Again, they all laughed, but if they had only known how right Maggie had been.

The first week was an adjustment period, no alarms, no phone calls, and lots of time. Tom relished sleeping in, he always had, and even more, he enjoyed spending time each morning having coffee with Maggie. They discussed the upcoming camping trip, taking time to pick a nice campground they had not visited before. Maggie soon had all their gear out in the garage, going through it and making sure everything was good. It had been stored for a few years now, and she didn’t want any unexpected problems when they set up camp.

All in all, it was all in good shape and still ready to go. A little shopping for some supplies, and within a week, Maggie had everything set up and ready to head out the door. The only change was this time they would be packing along their medicines. Besides Tom’s handful of pills, Maggie had been put on heart medication for a condition that had continued to get worse over the years.

They had decided on a different type of campground this time around. Instead of going to a state park, they travelled to an old prairie village that was sponsoring pioneer days in another week. The idea was to get there early, get a good campsite, and stay for all the festivities. After all, they didn’t need to return home for anything, and there was a store right at the campground, as well as a pretty good sized town just a few miles away.

Monday morning they loaded up the van they always used for camping and left home, knowing it would be about six hours before they arrived. The drive wasn’t actually that long if they took the interstate, but they had always taken a scenic route along the backroads and byways. One route there, another home; this trip would not be any different.

They enjoyed the drive, stopping often along the way, but still arriving by mid-afternoon. Maggie did most of the setup, but Tom assisted as best as he could. Soon, she had them all setup, and was cooking a light dinner on the portable grill they had. Tom sat back and watched, reliving the memories of past camps and his beautiful wife bustling around the sites. She was still very beautiful and had aged wonderfully. Tom got up and walked up behind her, putting his arms around her and nibbling the back of her neck, like he used to.

She turned and smiled, a tear rolling down her cheek. “What, don’t you like that anymore?” Tom asked.

“Yes, I do, I always have. It’s just, well you know your silly wife, always crying tears of joy. You haven’t done that for years, Tom, and you just made me so happy. I love you so much, and I just knew if I got you away from that job you’d soon be your old self.”

They embraced, then she turned suddenly as smoke rose up around them. “Look at what you made me do, I burned the burgers.”

They both laughed as she removed them to a plate. “They’re not burned, it’s just blackened beef.” Tom told her and then laughed even harder. It was a joke they had shared since early in their relationship, when they had dined at a very upscale restaurant. Tom had ordered the blackened tuna steak, and when it arrived Maggie joking said, “For the price, you think they would be more careful not to burn the food.”

They soon agreed that if they cooked something until it was charred and black, it’s burnt, but in a fancy eatery, they just raise the price and call it blackened. Through the years they had enjoyed this joke anytime something got a little overdone.

The meal was wonderful, even though it was very simple, and over the next week and a half they enjoyed grilling most of their favorite camp foods. On a few occasions they did dine at the café located in the old hotel. The menu there was set for the time period of the prairie village, but the food was always good. They could have eaten there for every meal, but part of the fun of camping was cooking over an open fire, or on the grill, with a few dishes cooked in pans on the little camp-stove if it wasn’t feasible to prepare on an open fire or grill.

They enjoyed some hiking along the trails, but avoided anything that required a lot of steep climbs or uneven footing. They also enjoyed looking through the old buildings, seeing the way people lived when they first settled on the prairie so long ago. The Prairie Days event lasted for three days, including some horse shows and an old time cattle roundup, and finished with an old time steam train giving a ride around a scenic view of the surrounding prairie. Tom and Maggie had tickets for this the first day they went on sale, and eagerly climbed aboard for their tour.

The ride was fun, and they both enjoyed it, but the smoke from the steam engine continued to blow in through the open windows of the old wooden passenger coach. Maggie was having a hard time with it, but did her best to hide this from Tom who was enjoying the experience immensely. When they finally got back to the depot, she was having a hard time breathing, and Tom had to help her step down on the platform.

They rested there for a while, then when Maggie had caught her breath, they got a ride in a golf cart back to their campsite. This evening, Tom cooked for her, even though she insisted she was doing fine. “It’s just allergies and all that smoke, Honey. I’m fine now.”

He still insisted she take it easy for the night, and they retired kind of early. Of course, this had Maggie up early, and by the time Tom woke up, he could smell bacon cooking along with fresh perked coffee. He got up, dressed, and stepped out to see Maggie, still in her night-shirt, cooking on the grill. She had coffee perking on the camp-stove and turned as he approached. “I’ll get the eggs going in a minute, but let’s get you a cup of coffee first, it’s just getting done.”

They enjoyed a cup of coffee as the bacon cooked over the fire, then she started the eggs and put some thick cut bread on the grill to toast. Soon they were enjoying a wonderful breakfast together, the last one they would ever share. Of course, they didn’t know how the day’s events would unfold, or perhaps they would have just stayed it the campsite. Perhaps even that wouldn’t have changed a thing.

After breakfast dishes were washed up, they took a hike down one of the more difficult trails. They had discussed this beforehand, and then again at breakfast. There was an original homestead at the bottom of a hill, still partially standing. Beside it was the sod shanty the pioneers had lived in while building the cabin, and this was what they wanted to go see.

They dressed for the hike, brought water along, and a set out before it got too hot. After a half hour of hiking along good trails, they came to the winding path that would take them down the steep hill to the site. The trail was maintained, and there was a rope attached to the trees to aid people up and down the trail. Even so, it took another fifteen minutes for them to climb down the steep slope. At the bottom, a small creek wound through the underbrush, with a short footbridge giving access to the other side. A sign here informed them that a severe storm had flooded the area, resulting in a flash flood that had cut this steep climb they had just come down. It also showed an image of how the original hill had gradually descended to the cabin just across the footbridge. It said the creek had not been here originally, and that the homestead had built upon a small rise or it would have also vanished in the flood of “28”.

They crossed the bridge and looked at the cabin from the roped off viewing area. Signs along the rope warned visitors to stay out of the cabin because it had become unsafe and could possibly collapse. It wasn’t anything fancy, it wasn’t big, just a square cabin with a door on one side and a window on the other. One room, that’s it, with sleeping quarters in the top area, just under the roof. A simple ladder provided access to the open attic.

Of course, they couldn’t see this from the roped off area, but there was a display that showed photographs of the inside. It was simply furnished, with an actual rough cut board for a “cup-board.”
Tom looked at the photos and said, “Maggie, our tents as big as that cabin, though not quite as high. And look at the way they cooked in that stone fireplace. They lived like we camp.”

“Wouldn’t it be grand to have a little cabin similar to this, and to just camp for the rest of our lives there?” She replied.

“Let’s go look at the shanty.” Tom answered back. “It’s just on the other side of the hill.”

Maggie nodded in agreement and they followed the path to the other side. There, carved into the hill was an old sod shanty. The door was gone, and it was cool and musky smelling as they stepped inside. The room inside was maybe ten feet wide and at the most six feet wide, with the back wall carved right out of the hill. One dirt wall, a dirt floor, and old roughhewn boards providing the other three walls and roof. The roof had been covered in sod, as well as sod blocks stacked against the two side walls. It was amazing well preserved, in much better shape than the cabin. The floor was littered with the remains of a table, some shelves, and the old straw bed. Most of this had deteriorated right into the floor, with rain water leaking in through the roof and open door. Some broken shards of pottery also were among the debris as well as animal tracks.

“I suppose this old shelter is still in use by critters.” Tom stated as he looked at what appeared to be small dog tracks. “Raccoons, you think?”

“Probably,” Maggie answered, “and likely some skunks squatted here not too long past, can’t you smell them?”

“Yea, I can, along with the musty smell of damp ground. We should get you out in the fresh air before you have problems breathing again, Maggie.”

They went out, but Maggie stopped a short distance from the door. “I want to look over here, there’s an old path.”

Tom joined her and looked. There was a slight trail that went into some brush around the side of the hill. “Probably just the critters that come down here for shelter. It likely don’t go anyplace at all, and it looks kind of overgrown. We’d have to push through that bush to even see where it goes.”

“Don’t be like that, Tom. It will be fun, and yea, it probably don’t go anyplace, but maybe it does. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

So, Tom followed Maggie up the hill alongside the chanty, then through the brush. It wasn’t as thick as it had looked, and the trail turned just beyond. “It almost looks like some kind of old hedge all overgrown form this side.” Tom said.

They had come out behind the shanty, standing level with the roof. A row of brush ran along this entire side, right up to the back of the old cabin not more than twenty or thirty feet away. “They built the cabin in the shanties back yard, and look, this whole area is flat and even. I bet this was their back yard for both. I can see them sitting out here on a sunny afternoon, watching the kids play.”

“It does look like that, Maggie. Look here, there’s something sticking from the ground.”

Maggie joined him and looked at what at first appeared to be an old grave marker. “Do you think this is their family cemetery?” Tom asked.

“There’s nothing on this board, and there aren’t any other markers. Look Honey, there’s more boards here beside this one.” Maggie had moved the grass and exposed what looked like part of an old crate.

Tom knelt down and helped her clear away some dirt and then carefully lift the decayed box out of the dirt. Most of its contents were nothing more than shards of white stoneware, but part way down they found an intact but chipped saucer. Carefully removing more shards and dirt, they finally came to what little was left of the bottom. “It must have been full of dinnerware and left behind for some reason. Why would they pack this stuff up and leave it back here?” Maggie inquired.

Tom looked at the saucer, then looked at Maggie, “I bet the kids played with this, the old table ware from the shanty. Remember the shards in there, they match. I bet they had some old plates and stuff and played house in there.”

Tom carefully slid the old wooden box over, “I should put this down in the shanty, where it belongs. You know kids, they never put their toys away when they get done playing.” He tried to pick up the box, but it was too rotten and began to fall apart even worse. “On second thought, I’m going to just carefully slide this over to the cabin, it will be protected from the weather better over there, and then others who happen along this trail can see it, too.”

“Honey, let’s just put it back, and leave it as we found it. I am going to keep this saucer for a souvenir, though.” Maggie leaned over the crate, on hands and knees to move it back to its original resting spot, but stopped when she felt something under her palm. Tom, help me dig here, there’s something else.

He got a stout stick and began digging where Maggie’s hand had been, uncovering more shards of pottery. “Just more broken items that must have gone through the bottom of the crate. Wait, look at this, it’s a round piece.”

There it was, exposed for the first time in how many years, a round, white ring of stoneware. “I bet it’s a cup or mug of some kind.” Tom stated as he carefully used the stick to dig around it. After a few minutes a handle appeared, then an entire, intact white cup.

It wasn’t graceful in design, just straight sides with a big handle attached. It had a flat bottom, and was very thick. Tom set it aside and dug around a bit more, but there was nothing more except a few more shards of broken pottery. He lifted the dirt filled cup and handed it to Maggie. She in turn set it down on the saucer she had found in the crate. A perfect fit. “Look, we found a cup and matching saucer.” She was smiling that wonderful smile that always made Tom smile back. “We have the perfect souvenir.”

Tom packed the items carefully in his pack, beside the water. They started back to camp, but the hike back up the hill was very difficult and they had to stop often. Maggie especially seemed winded and exhausted when they finally made the top. It was easier going the rest of the way, but Maggie continued to have trouble catching her breath. By the time they returned, she was pale, breathing very hard, and completely exhausted.

“Go lie down for a while, Honey.” Tom was concerned and helped her into the tent.

“But, I want to clean up our find first.” Maggie panted

“You lie down and rest, try and sleep a little. I’ll clean it up and we will try it out for coffee when you wake up.”

“Okay, maybe just a short nap, that hike really did me in. Are you sure you’re up to making coffee and cleaning up that stuff, you must be exhausted, too?”

Tom was pretty tired, but wanted to have the cup and saucer cleaned up and coffee ready for Maggie when she woke from her nap. “I’m fine, now get some rest.”

Tom cleaned up the saucer and cup. The saucer wasn’t bad, just some dirt stuck to it, but the cup was full of dried dirt, concrete hard. He added a little water and let it sit while he prepared coffee and started it heating. Then with a spoon and great care, he began digging out the soil. It took almost an hour of adding water, letting it sit a bit, and then removing the debris. Then, once it was empty, he put it and the saucer in a tub of water he had heated beside the coffee. He had been sipping on coffee while he worked and didn’t even notice Maggie as she came from the tent.

“How’d you come out? Did you get it cleaned up?” Tom jumped when she spoke right behind him.

Turning, he smiled and scolded her with his finger, “You scared the tarnation from me, Woman!” then broke into laughter, “Don’t be sneaking up on a guy like that.”

Maggie laughed. “Sorry, but I didn’t sneak up, I just walked over. Did you save me some coffee?”

Tom gave her his cup, filled it, and then returned to the tub, carefully washing the cup, rinsing it, and handing it to Maggie. Next he washed up the saucer, rinsed it, and handed that to her, as well. Neither item hand any markings on them, but they were in pretty good shape. The saucer had a chip on one edge, the cup just few scratches along one side.

I’ll get another cup and have some coffee with you, Maggie. Tom turned but she stopped him. Here, use this one. She was holding up the cup he had handed her. “But it’s our souvenir, Honey.”

“So?” Maggie smiles, “You can still use it, and get some enjoyment out of it. It’s a nice big cup and will hold enough coffee for you, it’s thick and will keep it hot, and with every cup, we can both remember the wonderful time we had today.”

“Today? You mean all week. Maggie, I’ve forgotten how much fun we have camping, and even worse, how much I enjoy sharing my life with you. Thank you for this wonderful adventure, and for the wonderful memories.”

Tom watched as Maggie got up, filled the cup, and placed it on the saucer in front of him. Sitting at the picnic table, sipping on his coffee, and holding hands, they watched the sun get lower and lower. “We better get some dinner going, it’s going to get dark soon.” Tom said as he finished his cup of coffee.

They dined light that evening. Maggie wasn’t very hungry, and Tom didn’t feel like cooking much if she wasn’t eating. The next morning he was up before she was, something rare indeed. He made her coffee and then breakfast, but she still had no appetite. It was the last day of camp for them, and that afternoon they would have to pack it all up. Tom figured she was just a bit depressed at the thought of this all ending. He took her hand and told her to cheer up, just because we are leaving this afternoon, doesn’t mean we are done camping. We can check on the house, pick up the mail, and then head right back out tomorrow for a new site and another adventure. Tom didn’t add that he was pretty tired out from camping, he just wanted Maggie to cheer up and smile for him.

She did, too. With a big smile she nodded, and added, “Let’s find a nice spot by a lake, close to the water, and go for a midnight dip like we used to.”

With this in mind, Tom packed up and Maggie helped, but she continued to get tired and had to rest often. Tom decided that before they go to the next campsite, he would insist she go in to the clinic and have herself checked out, something wasn’t right. They loaded up the van and went to the little store to get a couple bottles of pop to enjoy on the drive home. Tom ran in while Maggie rested in the van. When he came back, she was sleeping. Tom took her hand, but she didn’t wake. He leaned over and kissed her lips, and felt her gently kiss him back. Then she went limp and was gone.

The doctors told him she had died peacefully, her heart had not been pumping enough blood, and that’s why she was so tired. Then, she just died in her sleep, sharing that one last kiss. Tom was heartbroken and never recovered the loss. He buried the love of his life, and soon after was moved into a nursing home, unable or unwilling to care for himself.

His broken heart now was slowly failing him, and from his wheel chair he would sit for hours after breakfast, at the end of the long white table, and gaze out the window at the meadow and forest beyond it, lost in his memories. He didn’t interact with anyone, seldom spoke, and had all but given up on life. His one sole possession that he clung to was an old white cup and saucer.

Today had been a bad day for Tom. He was deeply depressed and refused to take his medication. The nurse’s aid took him to breakfast, but Tom refused to eat. When she tried to take him back to his room, he grasp the end of the table and held tight. “Do you want to sit here for a while?” She asked then added, I’ll get you some coffee.”

She had left him there with a cup of coffee, looking out the window. As he gazed out at the countryside, he was lost in thoughts of Maggie, of camping, and of all the years he had wasted with his job. He wasn’t just depressed, he was mad as hell. Today was Maggie’s birthday and she was gone. All those years of work and setting them up for a nice retirement that they just never got to enjoy. One camping trip and it was all over. He had lost his soul-mate, and most of himself with her. “Why? Why didn’t you see that it was the wrong choice? How could you be so blind to what the cost was?” Although he screamed these words in his mind, they were barely audible as they passed his trembling lips.

“Oh Maggie, if there was some way to do it over. If I could just have one last chance, I’d do it all so different.” Tom sobbed as he added, “Happy birthday, My Love, I wish I could go back and live it all over with you again, but this time I wouldn’t waste any of it. If you were only here, I’d give you all my time, we would spend our years camping and enjoying all those things I miss so much and you loved so much.”

Tom leaned over the table, over the cup and saucer Maggie and he had found, and prayed, “Oh Father, if there’s a way I can be with Maggie again, please take me and end my misery. I know I’ve wasted my life and the wonderful blessing you gave me in her. If there was a way to do it over, Father, I’d do it all so different. But, I know, this is the end, so I pray it will come fast that I may rejoin with Maggie in heaven. Father, please bring me home that I may be with Maggie once again. Amen”

As tom finished his prayer, a single teardrop rolled down his stubbled cheek, hung on his jaw for just a second, then dropped into his cup of coffee just as he opened his eyes. For a second it made ripples on the surface, but then as he watched them fade, something different appeared.

At first Tom thought it was just the steam rising from his cup, but then he remembered it had stopped steaming some time ago; it was just lukewarm upon his last sip. Tom shook his head to clear it, but the steam continued to rise in his cup. No, it wasn’t steam, it was a gray haze forming on the surface of the coffee. In fact, even though the cup was half full, he couldn’t see the coffee. And the haze was not only getting thicker, it was changing.

As Tom watched in wonder, he seen an image form. It wasn’t a reflection, and it wasn’t in the haze, it was in his cup. There was a stormy, cloud filled sky, and the clouds were moving. Tom looked at the window, the scenery was still the same, he looked around the dining room, and everything was still the same. He was sitting alone, as he often did. Nothing was different and he was sure he was awake. Looking down slowly at his cup, he now seen the clouds had overfilled the brim and were drifting out of the cup and over the table. In the center of the cup, the clouds had broken up and exposed a piece of blue sky and the sun shining through.

The next thing he knew, he was falling over. He had leaned too far and was falling from his wheelchair. He instinctively put his hands out to break his fall, and wondered in amazement as they vanished into the image in his cup. He couldn’t stop the fall, and now it felt like there was a suction coming from the sky scene within his cup, pulling him further into it. The next thing he knew, he was falling from the sky, now looking up at the same sky he had just seen spilling from his cup. Tom screamed, then all went black!

Someone was gently shaking him and calling his name. It must be the nurses-aid he thought as he opened his eyes and wondered at the scene surrounding him. He was lying on his back with that same sky above him, but he wasn’t at the nursing home, he was lying on grass. Then, to his wonder, Maggie leaned over and gently called his name, then seeing his eyes open, leaned down and kissed him.

“God, if this is a dream, please don’t let me wake,” Tom asked.

“What dream, Honey?” Had he spoken that thought? Tom sat up and looked around, he was at the prairie village campsite and Maggie was right there beside him. No, this wasn’t their campsite, something was different. As he looked around, he seen a small cabin just up the hill from where he was lying by a creek. This was the spot they found the cup and saucer, but, the cabin looked newer, and it was different.

“Are you awake? You look like you're lost Tom.” Maggie was holding out a cup on a saucer, “I brought you some coffee, looks like you need it.”

He took the same cup and saucer he had been looking into just minutes before in a nursing home and again looked into its depth. Steaming coffee filled it almost to the rim. He lifted it to his lips with trembling fingers and sipped the hot, bitter liquid. “Is this real?”

Maggie took his free hand and spoke softly, “Yes, Tom. This is real. You’re with me now. In my Father’s house are many mansions, but for some of us, a simple cabin is heaven. Finish your coffee, Honey, there’s so much I’ve been waiting to share with you.”