There once was a very old man who had lived a very full life. Maybe the fullest. He’d had adventures across continents – all of them in fact, even the missing ones – and sailed across countless oceans and seas. He’d even discovered a lake once that no man had ever seen before, but chose not to give it a name or even tell anyone about it because he wanted it to never change. He had seen and done things that most people could only hope to dream about – lived as full a life as anyone could imagine, save for one thing. He had lived a life comparable to that of twenty men, but was as alone as if he’d never left his home.
He had been on the move his entire life - even on into his later years – searching always for the next adventure. So often in fact that he had never made time to make a single friend. He had met thousands of people over the course of his travels, and to a man every person had regarded him as a man they wanted their sons to become. But he had never stayed in a single place long enough for him to even remember a name. And by this point of the man’s life, his family had already all passed on.
He was dying too now. The doctor had left just this morning, telling him the news on his way through the door. If he was lucky he would live another month, perhaps two if he was very fortunate. It was at this moment that he realized how lonely a life he had led. All of the things he’d seen and done, all of the close calls and near misses – none of it mattered now because it would never last past his own memories. He had no one to share his story with. Once he died his life would be forgotten.
This revelation sent the old man into deep despair. He laid in bed for days on end, getting weaker and more sick, until the doctor asked to have a nurse stay at his side. With another person around, the old man couldn’t stand to be seen as a failure, as someone who just gives up. Dying or not, he was still a strong man at heart.
With the new company at his side, his spirits slowly started to improve, and with them his health too. To help kill time, the nurse suggested that the old man try to grow a garden, something small with just a plant or two to start. His competitive spirit still well alive, those two plants turned into three; three into four, and then five, and then it wasn’t long until he had a thriving garden inside his home. Every time the nurse would come over she was amazed at how beautiful the garden was. It was as if it changed overnight, every night into something new and wonderful.
With his new dedication to the garden, his health continued to improve, and the month passed, and then another month. He could still feel that he was sick, but the garden was keeping his spirit, and his health, growing. Many months had passed now and his creation had filled his entire apartment, spilling over and out of his windows and onto his terrace. It was simply beautiful. The legendary gardens of Babylon couldn’t have been this welcoming and unique. He had created varieties of plants that science hasn’t yet catalogued let alone imagined. It had been close to a year since he was told he had one month to live. In that year he had created a world unlike any he had ever seen on any of his adventures.
Even an old adventurer can’t outrun some things, and eventually his health once again worsened. He had tried to continue gardening, but it was quickly apparent that he was too weak to continue. Confined to a wheelchair now, the nurse would push him through the hanging garden and up to his window, mostly covered in flowers and vines and leaves now, leaving only a glimpse to the busy street below. It wasn’t long until he was to weak to even sit up in his chair and needed to be confined to his bed once more.
Fading in and out of sleep, the old man confessed his biggest regret to the nurse who had become his friend, but to whom he rarely spoke. He described in detail about his trips across and around the world, seen untold natural wonders, and that very soon it would all be lost forever. He had lived a life larger than most men combined, but that in a short time there will be nothing left behind to be remembered by.
Quite moved, the nurse asked the old man to summon all of the strength he had left. Accepting it as one last challenge, he struggled mightily but managed at last to sit up straight. The nurse quietly picked him up and carried him to his chair. He demanded to know where they were going, but was too weak to ask.
Down the hall, and into the elevator, eleven floors and past a sleeping doorman, the nurse wheeled him through the front doors and onto the busy sidewalk. The sun was so bright and it had been so long since he’d been outside to see it that the old man had to close his eyes. The nurse silently continued to wheel him across the street to a shaded area in the park that the old man’s apartment overlooked.
Now, for the longest time this particular stretch of road had been a blight on the whole city. Aging buildings in disrepair and garbage littering the streets from left to right. But as the old man slowly opened his eyes, he could barely believe what he was seeing. As far as he could see, flowers and plants decorated the walls and terraces up and down the street. The most beautiful plants were everywhere, as if someone had taken his apartment and turned it inside out.
It was then that he noticed it … right in the middle of this paradise that he never knew had existed – and in fact did not exist until a short while ago – right in the middle was his window, with plants spilling out and onto the walls and windows in every direction. At that moment he knew he’d finally left a mark. And as a tear quietly fell down his cheek, he took a deep breath one last time, leaned his head back and smiled.
THE END