She laid quietly as the darkness tickled her sleepy figure and prodded at her droopy eyes. Blinking, she cleared the fogginess that gathered in the corners of her vision, and then wiped the rest away with the back of her palm. It was a terribly, terribly lonely night. And as she laid with nothing but the silence and darkness for company, she whispered faintly: "Was this worth it?" As soon as she uttered the statement, she immediately regretted it. How dare she say such a thing? After everything she'd been through, after everything she'd done to get to this moment in time. "Was this worth it?" Of course it was, of course it is. But as she blinked softly in the night, and as her thoughts swirled within her, she struggled to believe herself this time.
Her mind transported back to simpler times...
She glanced at her reflection in the rear view mirror of the giant tractor. She looked pale, but her flushed lips brought a beautiful comparison to her fair features. The door to the tractor swung open, abruptly interrupting her gaze. "Are ya ready?" His familiar smile brightened up the small dark tractor compartment, and she couldn't help but smile back "yes." She nodded enthusiastically and then quickly added: "I was born ready!" He ruffled her wavy blonde hair with his calloused palm, climbed over her pale legs, and plopped himself into the drivers seat. Today, she was going to learn how to drive a tractor. The engine revved and the tractor inched forward, he put on his sunglasses and then placed his strong arm around her, pulling her towards himself "I'm so glad you're here, Ducky. This is an ideal day. An ideal day I tell ya!" Nuzzling into his familiar shoulder, she couldn't have agreed more.
He started calling her Ducky because she had started calling him Goose. Silly Goose. He was always doing things to make her laugh. All moments were opportune moments for him to attempt to put her into a fit of giggles. And one day, between smiling teeth and her innocent laughter, she eagerly exclaimed: "You're such a silly...a silly, goose!" "Well, if I'm a goose, you're a duck, a lovely little duck with golden hair!!" And so..."Ducky" stuck. He even named his yellow speedboat they restored together "Ducky." He painted the name in bright blue letters across the side. He loved her, there was no doubt in his mind...or in hers for that matter. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this little golden Ducky, with her.
Wiping a tear away from her eye, she suddenly remembered she was back in her room in LA. She desperately tried to transport herself back to the Michigan summer day, the smell of the corn fields as they zipped by through the high tractor windows, and the feeling of his tan palm tapping her leg to the rhythm of the rock and roll song blaring over head...but instead all that came to mind was the distant roar of traffic and police sirens fading as they drove past her tiny apartment.
He was married now. Living in the house that they had cleaned, restored, painted, and designed together. The house that he took her to with her eyes blindfolded, and then eagerly unveiled exclaiming: "This is ours, Ducky, this is yours. We'll fix this porch up, you can use this area for your video computer stuff, we'll add on and build up when we have kids...we'll sit on this back porch when we're old. You and me. What do you say, I know it's not much, but it's ours. It'll do, yah?"
It more than did. To her, it might as well have been a mansion. She wondered if his wife thought of that little green house as highly. If she appreciated the kitchen sink that looked out the front living room window, creating a prime view for when he and El Toro, his red truck, drove up the long driveway after a hard days work. She wondered if his wife liked the paint colors that she had picked out and painted the house in. It probably didn't matter, she probably repainted, or worse, had no opinion on the matter.
Sighing, she shook her head of the bittersweet thoughts and memories. It had been years since she had allowed herself to think of these things, years since she had allowed herself to remember the weight of her decision to leave him. But, tonight she did. Tonight she let herself remember.
She smiled faintly as reality came back into the present and as the old memories began to fade. "Was it worth it?" She whispered again. As she laid alone and shivering, no audible voice reassured her, and no calming peace washed over her. But...her heart began to beat louder and with increasing frequency. Placing her hand over her heart, she suddenly remembered the gravity of what it meant to simply be alive. It was a humbling encounter with her own selfishness, and a radical reminder of self-awareness. She remembered and respected the gift of what it meant to choose between hard decisions. For, choices, despite what the majority always says, are a gift. A gift fraught with responsibility, but a gift nonetheless. "Was it worth it?" Suddenly became an irrelevant question. Instead, as the sun began to break the crest of dawn, and as she lay listening to the quiet thump, thump, thump, inside of her chest, she found herself contemplating a much more universal question...
"How in the world do I make each day worth it?"
